Death Comes to Hogwarts
by Nate Grey
Summary: Harry and Hermione interrupt a prank gone too far against Luna. In a flash, seven students are dead. Now Harry and Hermione struggle to find a way to move on and save Luna, but the greater problem may be that Luna doesn't want to be saved. H/H
1. Priori Incantem

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, I'm not making any money from this. I also feel I need to give credit to michelle_31a, who, to the best of my knowledge, came up with a certain spell first.

Notes: My first attempt at a story featuring Luna that is both not funny and not happy. Should be fairly short, maybe five chapters max. Had this first chapter done for months, started working on some Naruto one-shots and forgot all about it. Luckily I re-read parts of Book 7 about every six months or so, so I was bound to remember eventually.

Summary: Seven students are dead. Hermione isn't talking for once, Luna is traumatized, and Harry has tasted blood and found it to his liking.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 1: Priori Incantem**

* * *

The smell of burnt flesh met them at the foot of the stairs.

Despite his exhaustion, Albus Dumbledore sprang up the steps with the energy of a far younger man. The Headmaster's normally twinkling blue eyes were, in that moment, more of a cold, steel blue, and it would not have been a wise thing to block their owner's path just then.

Just behind him was Severus Snape, wand already drawn and face frozen in an unfeeling grimace. The smell did not bother him at all. That fact, however, did bother him somewhat, but his true concern lay elsewhere. Snape had lived in the castle long enough, and he had his ways of knowing when any student in Slytherin left their dormitories. Two were missing this night, and deep down, he knew that they more than likely awaited him at the scene of the crime. For now, it was only a question of if they were the victims, or the perpetrators. Despite what they might have wanted him to believe, Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode were no more victims than Draco Malfoy was a perfect gentleman.

Behind Snape were Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall, and their faces clearly showed the concern that they both felt. They had far less information than the first two, having been summoned to the Headmaster's side by two of the many house-elves that called Hogwarts home. By the time they'd arrived in the Ravenclaw common room, Dumbledore and Snape had already been there, and Dobby the house-elf had just vanished with a loud crack. McGonagall had gone pale after seeing that: Dobby was always happy to serve Dumbledore, but was generally only called on when matters directly concerned Harry Potter and his friends.

The only thing Dumbledore had told them was this: "There has been an attack on a Ravenclaw student. All of you, come with me, and be prepared for anything."

Rather fittingly, none of them were prepared for the sight that greeted them in the fifth year girls' dorm.

Dumbledore hadn't bothered with the door, much: he merely gave it a stern look, and the door (perhaps in an act of self-preservation) simply jumped aside, allowing them passage.

The smell of burnt flesh became even stronger then, and for whatever reason, Snape strode into the room first with his wand ahead of him, and Dumbledore actually allowed it, following close behind, with Flitwick and McGonagall following immediately afterward.

The room was almost entirely dark, and what little light there was beforehand came only from three sources: the small, electric green flames that were scattered about the room, the blazing green lights in Harry Potter's eyes, and the wandlight originating from Hermione Granger's wand (which she immediately pointed at the teachers, until she realized who they were).

The entire room was a gory mess. The reason for the scent was clear at once: Snape almost trod upon the blackened remains of a hand near the door, and there were a few more dark spots on the floor where other students had met the same fate. In worst shape was the bed farthest from the door: the sheets were drenched in blood, as were the two people crouching at the foot it. Hermione's robes were spotless, but Harry was almost covered in blood from head to toe, although clearly none of it was his. The same could not be said for the girl shivering in his arms: Luna Lovegood seemed unable to stop shaking, and her eyes were shut tightly, though not for the obvious reason.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see, Dumbledore knew at once. She didn't want to See.

He had known all along of the talent than ran in the Lovegood family, and that Luna was particularly blessed in that area. He had also known that she would be an outcast, even in her own house, despite his best efforts. But he had never imagined that she would be tortured to the point where even Harry felt that murder would be an acceptable solution. Even as he looked on, one of the many cuts on Luna's arms began to bleed slowly.

Snape was the first to speak, and his question was not one that Dumbledore had expected.

"I take it you were unaware that Sectumsempra requires very little force, Potter?" Snape asked softly.

Harry slowly turned his burning gaze on the Defense teacher. "It wouldn't have mattered, sir. Even if I'd had to cast the spell a hundred times instead of just once to get the same impact, I'd have done it."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Is anyone other than Miss Lovegood injured?" he asked gently.

"We're fine, Professor," Hermione said. Then, she seemed to rethink that, and smiled bitterly. "We aren't injured, anyway."

"I will need the three of you to explain exactly what happened," Dumbledore continued in the same comforting tone, "after Miss Lovegood has been attended to, of course."

"I don't think Luna will be able to help you there, sir," Harry replied. "She hasn't said a word since we found her. I don't know if she can anymore."

"We know she can scream," Hermione added with narrowed eyes. "At least, she was still doing that when we got here."

Harry carefully lifted Luna bridal style from the floor, and froze when she began to whimper. "It's okay, Luna," he whispered in her ear. "It's me. It's Harry."

After a short pause, Luna wrapped her arms tightly around Harry's neck and buried her face in his shoulder. She began to shake again, and wouldn't stop until Hermione came over and stroked her hair a few times.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and turned to the other teachers. "Minerva, would you be so kind as to escort these three to the infirmary? Filius, I've had the rest of your students moved to the Great Hall for the time being, and I'm sure they could use some reassuring words." He paused as Flitwick left, then added, "Severus, I wonder if you could...?" He gestured in the direction of the nearest blackened spot on the floor.

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape agreed at once. He knelt beside the nearest blackened spot and slowly waved his wand over it, murmuring a spell that conjured a transparent image of the student's last moments. It was probably the only way to confirm their identities without examining Harry's wand. As this thought registered, Snape frowned deeply. "Potter. Where is your wand?"

Harry blinked stupidly, as if waking from a dream, and slowly pulled his wand from a holster hidden on his left sleeve. "Oh. So I didn't leave it on the nightstand."

Snape stared at him. "You did this kind of damage without a wand?" he demanded, unable to keep the disbelief and outrage out of his tone. "Without the proper focus, you could have easily killed everyone in the room, including your friends."

"I wasn't thinking of proper focus! I was only thinking of hurting those animals for what they did to Luna!" Harry snapped. "At some point, you people are just going to have to realize that there simply isn't time to think when it's actually happening right in front of you! I saw what they'd done, and I wasn't about to let it go on a second longer! You have no idea what-"

"Harry. That's enough," Hermione interrupted, grabbing his arm. "Professor Dumbledore said we'd have a chance to explain. Right now, getting Luna treated is all that matters."

"She's right, Potter," McGonagall agreed at once. "Come along. I suspect that remaining at the scene is only making your friend worse."

Glancing guiltily at Luna in his arms, Harry deflated and followed Hermione out of the room without another word. He did not resist at all when McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder, and in fact, even seemed grateful for it.

Dumbledore sighed again after they had gone, suddenly feeling every bit his age.

"The Ravenclaws didn't suffer, sir," Snape reported after his preliminary analysis was done.

"And the Slytherins?"

"They did, greatly, if only for the few seconds before they bled out."

"I didn't want this for them," Dumbledore said quietly. "Certainly not for Harry."

"Not this early, you mean," Snape corrected dryly. "Whatever you claim to feel for Potter, you always intended him to be a weapon."

"Yes, Severus. But against evil and the darkness, not mere children."

"Ever the optimist," Snape said quietly. "But let me educate you on one mistaken notion you seem to have. Not only are children capable of evil, I would say that they are more capable of it than some adults, simply because they cannot fully appreciate the harm that they cause. When I was a child, I already had a list of people that I hated, and regularly envisioned ways to make their lives as miserable as my own. Calling that evil would, naturally, be an exaggeration, but I am not so blind as to think a child incapable of turning our world upside down for the worst. You're depending on one to do it for the best, aren't you?"

"I cannot and will not accept that idea that Harry is evil, Severus."

"He isn't," Snape agreed smoothly. "But everything here indicates that he killed tonight, without remorse or mercy. And that will only make it easier for him the next time."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey had long since learned that however many school rules Harry Potter and his friends seemed determined to bend and break, their loyalty to each other was a truly rare thing. Consequently, it was pointless to try and an enforce normal visiting hours with them when a friend of theirs was sick, and far easier to just let them come and go as they pleased, so long as they didn't disturb the other patients.

This was clearly going to be the case with Luna Lovegood: Harry hadn't released her hand since she'd been placed in bed, and Hermione Granger had somehow gotten her hands on a thick, dusty medical textbook, obviously looking for some way to speed their friend's healing. She had not, however, made any suggestions to Madam Pomfrey yet, as she normally might have, which was both a relief and a bit worrying.

Luna's physical wounds were cleaned and healed easily enough, but the amount and the nature of them had been more than a little disturbing. To begin with, someone had decided to carve words into her arms. They'd actually finished "Ministry of Madness" on the right arm, and had gotten as far as "Loony Loveg" on the left before being interrupted. In addition, Luna's ribs had been bruised by a considerable weight: someone (or possibly someones) had been sitting on top of her the entire time. The complete lack of fingerprint bruises on her arms and legs indicated that she had probably been Stunned as well. Someone had planned this torture, and had had every intention of finishing it.

And Madam Pomfrey, for one, was not at all sorry when she learned that those someones were dead. She could only spare her concern for Harry and his friends, because they were the ones that would have to live with what had been done to them, and what they had done in return.

**End of Chapter 1.**

* * *

**Continued in Chapter 2: Sectumsempra**

Harry did not interfere when it was just emotional abuse. He had lived through that, chose to believe it made one stronger, and had to hope that it would do the same for Luna. But this was different. There was no benefit he could see in this. After it was done, his first thought was to have Hermione create a vat of Veritaserum, just so they could go through all of Ravenclaw and Slytherin to make sure that they hadn't missed anyone.

* * *

Endnotes:

The spell Snape uses to identify the victims is not Priori Incantem (thanks to those who noticed the error!), though it is similar enough. I suspect most spells have potential variations, if Lumos is any indication.


	2. Sectumsempra

Notes: Wow, I didn't expect so much response for this story so quickly. Thanks for all the feedback.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 2: Sectumsempra**

* * *

Harry Potter was used to having nightmares that turned out to be real. He'd been seeing flashes of the murder of his parents for years before he found out that he was a wizard. Afterward, the dreams had mostly featured Voldemort, especially during the times that the Dark Lord was experiencing a very strong emotion. Harry had experienced countless nightmares about Voldemort breaking into Hogwarts, killing everyone in his path, and saving Harry and his friends for last. These, he had always kept to himself, both to keep from frightening those close to him, and because Harry hated feeling so powerless to protect them, even in his dreams. Something about the knowledge that Voldemort would take special care to snuff out the lives Harry valued over all others, and in the most brutal fashion possible, always made these dreams especially horrible and, worse than that, terrifyingly real.

What Harry found most formidable about Voldemort, however, had very little to do with their mental bond. Back when he still thought of himself as a normal person, Harry would have assumed that most people, however mean or nasty they might be on their own, would have the common sense to realize that working for someone like Voldemort could only end in pain, darkness, and death for them. He was still amazed by the number of people that, rather than doing the Dark Lord's bidding simply out of fear, did so gladly because of the power he granted them. It was true that Harry had inspired a large number of followers himself, but these he had won, in his opinion, merely by being a decent person who also happened to be a somewhat above average wizard. About the only promise he ever made was that he would do his best, which luckily was usually enough to save the day.

Amazingly enough, some students at Hogwarts still chose to believe the worst about him. Many of them were in Voldemort's sway, but some of them were simply the typical bullies, naysayers, and peer pressure groups that formed in most school environments. The problem was that magic sometimes made people lazy, inventive, and too powerful for their own good. Harry no longer had to worry about fist fights every day, but those were almost preferable to students who knew spells that could do everything from permanently disfigure to actually kill instantly: and Harry was starting to realize that not only were some of them in houses other than Slytherin, but that he would not always be the target. It would be a sad day when the greatest threat to Harry's friends were other students, but that was quickly becoming the case with Luna Lovegood.

Harry could understand people fearing or even hating what they misunderstood: that was unfortunately even true among Muggles. But even this did not completely explain the daily mistreatment of Luna by students in her own house. Certainly, Luna seemed more than a little odd at times, and it could even be argued that she often drew unnecessary attention to herself. Yet Harry had never known a more genuine and loyal friend than her, and all that aside, Luna was generally a kind and helpful person, when given the chance to prove herself so.

Even before they became friends, Harry could not understand why anyone would go out of their way to upset Luna. It was one thing to shove their way past her in the hall, as even Harry got that from Slytherins he'd never met. But Luna's housemates went as far as stealing her possessions and keeping them from her for the entire school year. Even the worst of his cousin Dudley's thugs would have found a new target within a few weeks, so this kind of devotion to bullying Luna implied some very real (but still unreasonable) dislike in Harry's mind.

The worst part was that not only was Luna convinced that these were all childish pranks, she firmly refused any and all offers of assistance in dealing with them. Harry had practically begged her to request a transfer to Gryffindor, if for no other reason than Ginny could look after her, but both of Luna's parents had been in Ravenclaw, and she was determined to stay there. The only thing Harry could do was promise Luna that if she ever needed his help, he would drop everything to be at her side. Frankly, this was a bit risky, as Luna was likely to ask for his help in tracking down creatures that didn't actually exist, but Luna fortunately understood the offer for what it was meant to be, and had not abused it (or used it at all, for that matter). Harry even went as far as "accidentally" bumping into Luna at regular intervals, but the only thing this accomplished was keeping him updated as to Luna's condition on a daily basis. It was always easy to differentiate between Luna's outlandish sense of fashion and pranks directed at her: there was at least some order to Luna's style, even if one had to squint to see it. That, and Luna usually did not prefer to smell like Doxy droppings (although when she did, she insisted on treating it as some sort of exotic perfume, and was easily offended by people holding their noses).

The pranks worsened whenever Slytherins joined in, eager to harm anyone that might be of use to famous Harry Potter. Luna started turning up with horrible rashes and bruises capable of speech (an enchanted pimple once loudly interrupted Potions by declaring that the wart on Goyle's backside could be cleared up with a spot of rum and a slight application of newt tongue, which was equal parts disturbing and true, and had it been witnessed by any other Potions master, certainly would've earned Ravenclaw five points).

Always Luna said that she was fine, and though Harry's heart ached for her, there was nothing he could do without upsetting Luna. The last thing he wanted to do was add to her troubles, and though she never showed it, he was sure that all the teasing and meanness did hurt her on some level. Still, he refused to be the one to draw that hurt out into the open, so all he could do was respect Luna's wishes, and hope that when her emotional walls inevitably did crumble, he or some other trusted friend would be nearby to quickly pick up the pieces.

* * *

When Luna's call for help finally came, it arrived in the last place Harry expected it: his dreams.

Oddly enough, this was an unusually pleasant dream, in that only three of Harry's closest friends had died, and done it well, taking down several Death Eaters in the process. Ginny, in true Weasley fashion, had just bewitched Lucius Malfoy's pants into thinking they were fireworks and behaving accordingly. In the midst of the yelling, the cheers, and the overpowering (yet somehow pleasant, considering who it was originating from) scent of burnt flesh, the scene was drowned out entirely by Luna's panicked voice.

"Harry, it hurts so much! Please, make them stop, help me! Harry, please!"

For an instant, he could actually see Luna: her mouth open in a silent scream as her head thrashed from side to side, being prodded roughly in the cheek by a wand that left a bloody streak on her face.

Harry was out of his bed in an instant. Seeing only Luna's tortured face before his eyes, he must have thrown on clothes, because the next thing he knew, he was racing down to the common room, just in time to nearly collide with Hermione. They shared a brief look, and to his amazement, Harry saw the same desperate look in her eyes that must have been in his.

Hermione knew. He didn't know how she knew, but it was obvious that she did, because when Harry grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione asked no questions and had no trouble keeping up.

It was only when they were racing through the castle corridors that Harry realized two important things: first and foremost, that he had no idea where the Ravenclaw common room was. Second, neither of them had thought to mention his Invisibility Cloak, which was tucked away safely in Harry's trunk at the foot of his bed. In all likelihood, they would be caught by a teacher before they got anywhere near Luna, and while several of them were aware of Harry's visions, a story about Luna being tortured, with no other proof, was unlikely to be believed.

Once again, Harry found that Hermione's brilliant mind saved him. When he finally came to a stop, about to admit that he was completely lost, Hermione stepped forward and tugged him after her, as if she'd been waiting for that very moment. Harry could only follow in shock as she lead him directly to the fifth floor, up a spiral staircase to a door that he supposed had to be the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, as he'd never been in it before. Hermione was already reaching for the eagle knocker when it spoke to them.

"Why did the hippogriff cross the road?"

Harry stared at it in disbelief, and then Hermione as she quickly answered, "To get to the bag of dead weasels on the other side!"

The knocker sighed, sounding greatly disappointed, and murmured, "You're lucky this is an emergency, you know," as the door swung open.

Stunned, Harry allowed Hermione to tug him through the door. The memory of why they were there came back to him in a rush, as another vision of Luna in terrible pain filled his mind, along with a completely unrelated but extremely helpful one of her skipping her way down the steps from her dorm room. Needing no further guidance, Harry crossed the common room and all but hurled himself at the door leading to the dormitories, kicking it open with complete disregard for any sleeping Ravenclaws he might have disturbed. He charged up the steps with Hermione right behind him, and the moment the desired door was in sight, Hermione drew her wand. Yet even that was unneeded, because once again, the door opened without prompting, and as he ran past it, Harry could swore he heard it say, "Sure, why not Gryffindors, they're already sneaking Slytherins past me, too!"

Harry had been dreading the worst. He had told himself that Death Eaters had broken into Hogwarts and were torturing Luna to draw him out. He had assumed it was a trap by the Dark Lord, and knew that by walking right into it, he was putting both his and Hermione's lives in grave danger.

He was, therefore, completely shocked to see not Death Eaters, but a group of female students crowded around Luna's bed.

Millicent Bulstrode was easily identified: few girls were built in a way that they might be mistaken for a female Gregory Goyle. She was sitting directly on top of Luna's chest, obviously to keep her from getting away.

Harry also picked out Pansy Parkinson, taking great pleasure in using her wand as a brand to carve letters into Luna's bleeding arm.

They were the only ones that Harry would remember by name. After that, a blanket of rage descended upon him. How could they be so petty? People were dying outside of Hogwarts, all because Voldemort said they should, and these girls had the audacity to think that their silly grudges took precedence over that, or even mattered at all? Worse, they had targeted Luna, one of the few good people brave enough to fight against the darkness, just because she was a little different? Harry threw himself forward with a howl that he barely recognized as coming from his own throat.

The girls spun around and froze at the sight of him, completely unprepared for the interruption. Millicent had a particularly shocked expression, her mouth hanging open stupidly.

Harry had the vague impression that Hermione was saying something to him, perhaps trying to get him under control, but it was useless. He could hear nothing but the blood pounding in his ears, and the furious voice in his head. As a rule, Harry held a strong dislike for most Syltherins, but still chose to believe that not all of them were Death Eaters in training. He had no idea how connected Millicent and Pansy's families were to Voldemort, and in that moment, he didn't care. For what they had done to Luna, they would always be his enemies.

The words of the Half-Blood Prince came to him unbidden, and a terrible grin stretched across Harry's face as he raised a steady finger, pointing at Millicent. He knew just what to do with enemies.

"Sectumsempra!" he shouted.

For a moment, nothing happened.

It was a testament to Harry's rage that he'd used an untested spell, but he was not at all concerned about what might happen to the Slytherin as a result. He only hoped it was painful.

Millicent blinked, closed her mouth, and then fell forward onto the bed.

In two pieces.

The silence was broken by Pansy's terrified scream as she scrambled backwards off of the bed, trying to get away from the blood that was rapidly spreading from Millicent's body. Harry found this odd, as Luna's blood hadn't seemed to bother her one bit. He turned his finger on Pansy as well, and was somehow pleasantly surprised to see that he didn't even need to repeat the spell to produce the same results. Pansy's screams died off abruptly.

The other five Ravenclaws hadn't moved, still too stunned or frightened by what they had seen.

Strangely, Harry felt little desire to kill them, though part of him felt sure that they deserved to be hurt at the very least. Certainly they had allowed this, and most likely granted the Slytherins access to the room willingly. But he hadn't seen them hurting Luna, and perhaps because he had put too much power into the spell, Harry only felt extremely drained and relieved that Luna wasn't being hurt anymore. Though if Hermione was in the mood to hurt them, he definitely wouldn't have stopped her.

He had just started to move forward when the room vanished in an explosion of green light. Something hit him around the middle, and Harry fell to the floor with another body on top of him. The last thing he remembered as the darkness came was the sound of the Ravenclaw girls screaming.

* * *

Not surprisingly, Harry was the first one that Dumbledore wanted to talk to in his office.

This was for the best: Harry had gotten the impression that while he'd passed out, Hermione hadn't, so she had a far better idea of what had gone on. Strangely, he could tell there was something she hadn't told him about the incident, something important, but that hardly bothered him. Hermione was not the type to keep secrets without good reason, and probably just didn't want to add to his current troubles until things calmed down.

The interview went fairly quickly: Harry told Dumbledore everything that he'd seen and done concerning the night's events. After he'd woken up, he'd found Hermione hovering over Luna with an expression of great worry and slight fear. Since Luna had still been bleeding, Harry had assumed that Pansy had used a special spell that resisted normal magical healing. At least, until Hermione destroyed that illusion for him.

"I can't get close to her, Harry," Hermione had told him. "She won't let me. Could you try?"

Harry hadn't understood quite what she meant, especially since Luna had offered no sign of resistance when he'd carefully wrapped his arms around her and helped her sit up. She'd been shaking, her eyes shut tightly, and Harry's hands on her hadn't had any effect that he could see. He'd tried talking to her, but that hadn't helped, either.

That was when the teachers had charged into the room, and Dumbledore knew everything that had happened after that.

Dumbledore accepted Harry's version of events with a polite nod, thanked him, and assured him that he would not be punished. It was only then that Harry stopped to consider that trespassing in another house's territory and killing its students might be wrong in other people's eyes. At no point in his interview had he mentioned Voldemort or Death Eaters, yet he was certain that Dumbledore had picked up on his original fear of them attacking.

Harry returned to the infirmary immediately after and found Luna was sleeping deeply, for which he was thankful. Hermione was still sitting beside the bed, but lifted her head from the medical text to and gave him a shaky smile that did not reach her eyes. Without a word, Harry sat down beside her and pulled her against him.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Okay. There wasn't really anything to hide this time."

He felt her body tense. "Harry, about that. There's something I should tell you."

"Hermione, unless it has something to do with Luna's condition worsening, I don't think I can handle it right now."

She relaxed somewhat. "No, it's nothing like that. I guess it can wait."

There was a brief pause, and then Harry asked abruptly, "You heard her inside your head, too?"

Hermione nodded. "She sounded so scared, Harry. I've never heard her sound that way. She was never afraid of anything before."

"I think she was just better at hiding it. Luna had to know we worried about her. She had to know we cared. That's why she called us."

"She didn't call Ron," Hermione murmured thoughtfully. "You didn't wake him up, either."

Harry blinked slowly. "I don't know why I didn't. I was rushing, and all I could think of was getting to her. I'm sure he would've come, though. Neville and Ginny, too." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Hermione or himself that Luna had plenty of friends, but suddenly it seemed important. Perhaps because she'd had that many people that would want to hurt her to that degree, Harry wanted to be sure she had just as many that would care for her now.

"One of us should go back and tell the others in the morning," Hermione sighed.

Harry got the distinct impression that she thought it should be him, and he agreed. Ron would probably be mad that he was left out, and the last thing Hermione needed now was to be distracted and drawn into another fight with him. "I'll go. Can you stay with Luna?"

"Of course, but are you sure?" Hermione hesitated before adding, "She only seemed to respond to you before. If she wakes up and you aren't here, I don't know what'll happen."

"She'll know that you helped me save her," Harry said confidently, though he was certain of no such thing. "You'll be more than enough to comfort her, Hermione. You always are."

She blushed faintly, and Harry was a little surprised when she kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you for saying that, Harry."

He could only nod in return, and the silence that followed was oddly comfortable instead of awkward, as Harry would've expected.

* * *

"Potter, I can appreciate your loyalty to Miss Lovegood, but I see no need for two Gryffindors to be skipping classes."

Harry came awake with a start to find Professor McGonagall frowning down at him. At first he thought she was just upset about him supposedly skipping class, but then he noticed, his face turning bright red, that Hermione's head had somehow ended up in his lap, and there was a very satisfied smile on her sleeping face. Laughing nervously, he shook Hermione's shoulder until she slowly sat up, yawning hugely until she spotted their teacher.

"You may stay, Granger, provided your studies do not suffer. I expect Potter will ensure that you receive all of your assignments."

"Yes, Professor," Harry and Hermione said at once.

Professor McGonagall continued to stare at them expectantly. "Well?" she demanded.

Harry sprang from his chair, turned to Hermione, and for once, was completely unsure how he should say goodbye. He felt fairly sure that touching should be involved, except he could almost hear Professor McGonagall's patience wearing away, and suspected that any further touching would be strongly discouraged.

Hermione solved the problem by standing and hugging him almost defiantly. "Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure Luna will recover soon."

"Yeah," Harry added automatically, feeling very certain that Hermione was only using that as an excuse, and that she'd wanted to touch him just as much. Once Hermione let go, he moved over to Luna and squeezed her hand lightly. "Call me if you need me," he said simply, and was fairly certain he heard what might have been a sniffle from Professor McGonagall's direction.

When he looked, however, she simply nodded and said, "Off you go, Potter."

* * *

Harry only got one foot into the Gryffindor common room before he was dragged into it by several pairs of eager hands. At once, the large crowd waiting for him began demanding answers. Harry knew that news tended to spread fast at Hogwarts, thanks partially to the school ghosts who had access to all parts of the castle. Still, he was a little overwhelmed to see that virtually every Gryffindor had heard of the attack on Luna, though of course they'd only heard an edited version of it.

None of them seemed to realize that seven students were dead, though most of them seemed convinced that Slytherin was involved.

It took some time before Harry could be heard over all the noise, but Ron's roar of "QUIET!" helped immensely.

"I don't know what you've all heard," Harry began, "but there was an attack on Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw student." His eyes narrowed as he heard more than a few people muttering unflattering things about Luna. "Let me just say this right now: Luna stood with me when many others didn't. She's a true friend, and I would lay down my life for her. If I hear that anyone in this house was giving her a hard time, they'll answer to me."

"And me!" Ron was quick to chime in, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Oh, and Ginny, too," he added sheepishly as his sister came forward, furious at being overlooked.

"Something else you should all know," Harry continued, "is that these weren't Death Eaters. They were students: two Slytherin and five Ravenclaws. I don't know what they were thinking, and I don't care. If you consider yourself a friend of mine, let it be known that anyone who messes with one of my friends messes with them all. There was no reason for what they did to Luna, and I don't regret what I did to them. But I also have to ask you not to go around bragging or looking for trouble. No matter how we might feel, for now, let's have some respect for the dead."

It was a chilling note to end on, and Harry had meant it to be. This was still a serious situation, and he fully expected retaliation against him, if not from other Slytherins and Ravenclaws, then certainly from the families of the dead girls. He felt he was ready for that, or at least knew he would have to be. It wouldn't be easy, but for the sake of protecting a treasured friend, he would do that and more.

Not surprisingly, as the crowd began to file out, Ginny marched up to Harry and glared at him. "If you knew Luna was in trouble, Harry, you should have told me! I would have helped, you know! She's my friend, too!"

"There wasn't time," Harry said quickly, sensing that Ron was about to make the same complaint. "All I knew for sure was that every moment I took to get there was another that Luna was in pain. How could I make her wait any longer than she had to? The only reason Hermione was there was because she got the same information I did."

"That's another thing!" Ron added angrily. "How is it you two knew about this and no one else did?"

"All I can tell you is that Luna found a way to call the two of us, and we answered. If you're asking why she didn't choose you, that's something you'd have to ask Luna herself. Hermione will send word when Luna wakes up."

Ginny bit her lip. "You're not just saying that, Harry? She will wake up, won't she?"

He nodded. "Madam Pomfrey thinks she will, and I trust her. Besides, I doubt even Hermione could come up with a spell that would keep Luna quiet for too long." Harry was grateful when Ron and Ginny laughed along with him, but he could still tell that none of them felt like doing so.

* * *

**Continued in Chapter 3: Protego**

In the wake of Luna's attack, Hermione has gained a deeper understanding of what it means to be her friend, and beyond that, what it will mean to protect her even from their comrades. However, she is starting to realize that standing with Luna will be difficult, not because of who others think she is, but because of what Luna has been concealing from the day she was born.


	3. Protego

Notes: First chapter I didn't have at least partially written beforehand, hope it doesn't show.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 3: Protego**

* * *

Yesterday, things had been simple for Hermione Granger. Then, she had firmly but foolishly believed in things like justice and karma.

Now, she just want a little of both for Luna Lovegood.

Most worrying was Luna's condition, and not just the part where Pansy had branded her as if she were livestock. That, as far as Hermione was concerned, was only a small part of what had happened to Luna. The problem was, she hesitated to talk to anyone else about the rest of it, because it seemed far too huge an issue to share without Luna's consent. It had been incredibly hard to keep it from Harry, but Hermione didn't want to destroy his perception of Luna just yet. That, too, was something she needed Luna's approval and help with, because as many answers as Hermione now had, she still didn't know half of the questions.

* * *

The high point of Hermione's day was easily when, after nearly two days of constant sleeping, Luna opened her eyes. Hermione had mentally prepared herself for a number of possibilities. Her worst fear was that Luna would think the attack was still going on, or perhaps might not recognize her at all.

That did not appear to be the case: Luna seemed calm, for the moment. Eventually, her gaze landed on Hermione, and there was recognition in her eyes, though not quite the right sort.

"Mummy!" Luna cried, launching herself forward and hugging Hermione tightly. "Mummy, it's you!"

For a heart-wrenching moment, Hermione considered allowing Luna her hallucination. Luna had been very open about discussing her mother's death, and Hermione, more than anyone else, had felt for her. Now, however, Luna needed to be firmly grounded in reality, which meant she needed a large dose of truth. It might hurt her momentarily, but there were questions that needed to be answered before Dumbledore finally got around to asking them (frankly, Hermione was amazed that he had still only questioned Harry, but wasn't about to complain).

"No, Luna," Hermione said softly as she returned the hug. "It's Hermione, Hermione Granger. Do you remember me?"

Luna slowly pulled away, sadness and fear in her eyes. "I do now." There was a brief pause, and then she whispered, "Was it not okay to hug you?"

"Of course it was!" Hermione replied at once, practically dragging Luna back into her arms. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn't!"

"No, it isn't that," Luna murmured into her shoulder. "I just thought you might be a little afraid of me now. You saw me, didn't you?"

"Y-Yes, I did," Hermione admitted, holding Luna a little tighter. "I was hoping we could talk about that, actually. Is that okay?"

"It's fine," Luna sighed, slipping from Hermione's arms and settling back into bed. "I wanted so badly to tell someone for so long, and I think it had better be you. Only, I'd rather wait for Harry so I can tell you both at once."

Hermione nodded eagerly. "That's a good idea!" She quickly pulled out her wand, and with a swish, murmured, "Avis!" A small flock bluebirds erupted from the tip, fluttering excitedly around Hermione's head.

Anyone else might have found the sight to be humorous, or at least assumed that it gave Hermione the appearance of seeming a little odd, but Luna only gasped softly and breathed, "Oh, they're lovely!"

Unable to stop herself from smiling, Hermione directed a few of the bluebirds to fly around Luna, and sent the rest off with strict instructions to find Harry. For a few minutes, she simply watched Luna play with the birds, and wished things could always be so simple. Then she was forced to remind herself that thinking of Luna only as a harmless girl was not only inaccurate, but dangerous for them both. Shaking her head slightly, Hermione cleared her throat, but finally had to dismiss the birds to fully regain Luna's attention.

"Why did you pick me, Luna?" Hermione asked. "I didn't think we got along that well, and you're closer to Ginny. So why did you call me?"

"You don't know?" Luna asked in surprise. "I was sure I wouldn't have to explain that to you."

"Well, you kind of do!" Hermione insisted, suddenly remembering how easily Luna had always managed to frustrate her.

Luna seemed to pick up on her irritation and got to the point. "I called Harry because I knew he would save me, no matter what. I called you because I knew you would help him, you always do. That, and I didn't think he'd be able to get into the Ravenclaw common room alone."

"Are you serious? The question wasn't that difficult, or even that good."

Luna smiled patiently. "Yes, well, it wouldn't have been. You were in a hurry, so you wouldn't have learned anything, anyway. That door is very smart: it never gives you a question you can't answer if you belong here, only one that forces you to think for a while. If you got past it, that means it gave you a question you could figure out very quickly, as opposed to one you would've learned from. I wish I had one like it at home to help me study." She paused, realizing she was rambling. "Anyway, you would've done well in Ravenclaw, and you're the only one of Harry's friends I knew that for certain about."

"How did you manage to consider all of that while you were being tortured?" Hermione asked in disbelief, wincing as she realized how it sounded.

Luna's eyes took on a faraway look. "You'd be surprised, the places your mind goes when you're in that much pain. Honestly, I didn't even realize I'd called you until you came. I thought I was just having a really nice dream. Daddy had set two extra places for tea, and when I asked who was joining us, you two showed up. I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

"But, Luna, it was a dream," Hermione whispered reluctantly.

Luna blinked, her dreamy smile fading somewhat. "Oh. Yes. I'd forgotten."

Hermione wanted so much to hug her again, but wasn't sure how to explain the reason behind it to Luna. Instead, she changed the subject. "I don't suppose you remember exactly how you managed to call us, then?"

"Oh, that's easy. I do that sometimes with people I really trust. Talk inside of them without meaning to, I mean. It happened with Ginny a few times, but she thought I had just been whispering, so I didn't see the point in correcting her."

"But that's an amazing gift, Luna!" Hermione cried in shock.

"Is it?" Luna asked, blinking slowly. "I never really thought of it that way. Some people stopped liking me when I did it, so I always rather thought of it as a being a problem, actually. But it's nice that you don't feel that way."

This time Hermione couldn't help it: she moved forward and hugged Luna firmly, and was delighted when Luna returned the embrace without questioning it. "Luna, I'm so sorry that happened to you. Anytime you want to talk to me that way, feel free. I would never stop liking you because of that."

"Really? You like me? You don't think I'm odd?" Luna asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes, I do like you. As for being odd, well, if you hang around Harry long enough, you'll find that you're practically boring compared to some of the things we've seen and done. Anyone that calls you odd hasn't lived enough, as far as I'm concerned."

Luna peered closely at Hermione, as if seeing her for the first time. "People used to call you odd, too, didn't they?"

Hermione blinked, and answered before she could stop herself. "Yes, all the time. It used to bother me quite a lot. Then I realized that someone who truly cared about me would never say that, at least not in a way that was intended to hurt me. So I stopped listening to them."

"It seems obvious, when you say it like that," Luna sighed wistfully. "I wish I'd thought of that sooner. I would have enjoyed my childhood a lot more. But I had Mummy and Daddy and Grammy, so it wasn't so bad." She smiled in a way that seemed to light up the whole room. "Now I have you and Harry and all my other friends, and for a little while, I forgot what it means to be lonely. So thank you, Hermione. Especially for not believing in everything I do. I don't think I'd like you as much if you did."

Hermione had a growing suspicion that Luna had purposely started some of their arguments, but didn't have a chance to ask as Harry burst into the infirmary. He was still being followed by several of Hermione's bluebirds, who were tugging weakly at the sleeves of his robes, now that the magic in them was starting to wear down. Harry didn't give them a second thought as he ran straight to Luna and hugged her so tightly that Hermione thought she would surely complain.

"You know, if I was allergic to hugging, this would be a really bad day for me," Luna commented, drawing a confused stare from Harry as he released her, and a laugh from Hermione.

"Someone's been hugging you?" Harry asked. "That's good, right?"

Luna gave Hermione a considering look. "Yes," she decided after a very long moment.

This left Hermione feeling slightly insulted. That is, until she suddenly heard Luna's voice inside her head. "Don't worry, I'm kidding. Your hugs are very nice, Hermione." Hermione might have ignored that, except that the comment somehow had the feel of a warm touch that left her feeling embarrassed and intensely liked. She wondered how anyone could ever not enjoy Luna speaking to them that way.

"Well, you look good," Harry said abruptly to Luna, then blushed as she turned toward him with a startled expression. "I mean, you look okay! Er, healthy! Considering, um, what happened to you and all!"

Luna blinked. "Oh, that. I've always healed quickly. It runs in the family, I think." She stopped, glanced at Hermione, and cleared her throat. "Now that you're here, Harry, there's something I want to tell you. Something I need to share with you both, so you can decide if you want to remain friends with me."

Harry looked stunned and hurt. "Luna, how could you say that? We'll always be your friends! Haven't we proved that to you?"

"Yes, but you're only saying that because you're friends with the me you think you know. I owe it to you to tell you the truth about my family and I. After that, if you'd rather have nothing to do with me, I'll understand. It tends to happen that way, you know."

"Luna," Harry said firmly, "there is nothing you could tell me that would ever convince me to stop being your friend."

Luna smiled, but it was nowhere near as dreamy or as bright as it should have been. "I really do hope you mean that, Harry. Hermione's given me hope that you do. Maybe, if I don't lose you both, I can find a way to show you how much I appreciate you later."

"You aren't going to lose us, Luna," Hermione promised, grasping her hands. "You wouldn't have called us if you really believed that. We're here because we care about you, and we aren't going anywhere."

"I don't want to hear anything else about us not staying your friends, either," Harry added. "If you'd seen the way Ginny's been breathing down my neck lately, you'd know she's your friend. Neville even got detention with Snape for trying to leave you a get well present. It was some plant that dances when you tickle it."

"Oh, it sounds lovely," Luna murmured happily. "Where is it now?"

"He had to give it to Dumbledore, it was the only way Snape wouldn't set the poor thing ablaze right then and there. So you know Neville has to like you, nothing scares him worse than Snape."

"Some things are scarier," Luna said simply, and by the time she was done with her story, Harry and Hermione were forced to agree.

* * *

Luna was cleared to leave the infirmary later that day, but returning to her room in Ravenclaw was never even discussed. Harry and Hermione dragged her straight to the Gryffindor common room, where Luna was warmly welcomed by everyone. Ginny in particular had pounced on Luna and refused to let go of her for more than a few seconds at a time. Neville might as well have been Stunned when Luna gave him a big kiss on the mouth, much to the amusement of Ron and other boys, who clapped him on the shoulders and congratulated him on becoming a man.

Through it all, Harry and Hermione stood off to the side, watching the warm reception with proud but somewhat troubled smiles. While they were still firmly Luna's friends, what she'd told them would stay on their minds for a long time. Hermione was especially concerned about something else she'd noticed since the attack on Luna: the new-found closeness she shared with Harry. It was by no means unwelcome, and part of her had secretly wanted it for some time, but it still bothered her. They hadn't talked about it, since Luna had been the focus of their thoughts for the past few days, but Hermione felt this was a good time.

"Harry, have you noticed how much more comfortable we are with each other now?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry said at once, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. "Y-You're okay with it, right?"

He sounded so desperate for her to agree that Hermione smiled and lightly touched his cheek. "Yes, I am. But there's something you should know. I think Luna's behind it."

Harry stared at her. "Luna? What do you mean?"

"Those things you said to me while she was sleeping. Would you have said them before all this?"

"No. I felt the same way then, I was just too scared to say anything."

"Exactly!" Hermione cried at once. "She's made us more, I don't know, open with each other, and her. She may not even know that she's doing it."

"And if she does know? What then?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's not a bad thing, really. I mean, they're still our own feelings, and we probably would have admitted them eventually."

Harry looked quite doubtful of that, and Hermione knew why as they both risked a glance over at Ron. He was still laughing loudly and slapping Neville (who was still red in the face) on the back. No, Harry wouldn't have said anything, for Ron's sake. For the sake of their friendships with each other, he never would have said a word.

Hermione shook her head. "Well, I intend to ask her about it, eventually. I think it's another aspect of her power that she needs to be aware of."

"It's still kind of hard to believe," Harry sighed. "I knew she had certain problems, but I never would have guessed."

"Don't look at it that way, Harry. Just think of her as a puzzle. Now that we have all the pieces, and we can start solving her together."

"Speaking of solving, have you given any thought to where she's going to sleep tonight?"

"I don't think we have to worry about that. Ginny isn't likely to let her go anywhere, and Luna might be more comfortable sharing a bed with her than anyone else. If it doesn't work out, I'm willing to share with her. Oh, but one of us should go and get her things from-"

"They're gone," Harry said quietly.

Hermione looked at him, clearly startled. "What?"

"Everything in her room that wasn't destroyed in the attack is gone. I looked myself. No one would say anything, but I'm sure some of the Ravenclaws were behind it. If it had been a teacher that was just holding her things for her, Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall would have told me."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, Harry. It's not over, is it?"

"Worse," Harry said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I think it's just starting. But I'm going to end it. I spoke to Cho, and she knows a spell that should retrieve lost items. Luna will need to be there for the attempt, though."

"Well, that's good," Hermione said, trying to sound positive.

"Maybe," Harry muttered. He closed his eyes tightly. "But I don't even know if I can trust her. I don't know if I can trust any of them, now! Luna's never mentioned her before, and she isn't the type to forget her friends, so that could mean anything! I just don't know, Hermione!"

"We'll figure it out, Harry," she assured him. "One student at a time, if we have to. For Luna."

"For Luna," he agreed sadly, watching as Ginny and Luna laughed at something Lee Jordan was telling them. "Look at her. How could anyone ever think she deserved to be treated that way?"

"I have no idea," Hermione sighed. She froze as Luna stopped laughing abruptly and turned to look directly at her.

"I like it when you worry about me," Luna said into her mind, "but don't get so caught up in it that you forget to have fun, Hermione. I'd never want that."

"We can't help it, Luna," Hermione whispered, knowing she could hear every word. "W-We have to, because we love you!"

Luna didn't seem at all surprised. Instead, she came over to them at once, and with no warning, drew Hermione's head down and gave her a swift peck on the lips. Harry was so shocked that he was easy prey when Luna did the same to him. Then she turned on Ginny, who had followed her over, and gave her the same treatment. Ginny looked so dazed that she nearly fell over, so Luna took her arm and gave them all a tiny smile. "I love you, too," was all she said before tugging Ginny off to the girls' dormitories.

"I wish she wouldn't do things like that," Harry sighed.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because when she does things like that out of the blue, it makes me think I could kill for her again, and be okay with it again."

* * *

That night, Hermione dreamed of the attack on Luna.

But it wasn't the blood or even the death that had bothered her the most about that night.

It was the eerie look on Luna's face as her eyes rolled back into her head, the unknown language that spilled rapidly from her mouth, the way the temperature in the room skyrocketed as emerald lightning shot out from every pore on Luna's body, and the certainty that if Hermione hadn't thought to shield herself and Harry from the raw, magical force that Luna herself had unleashed yet had no control over, they'd both be just as dead as everyone else in that room had been.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 4: **Tempesta Limitus**

Growing up as a Lovegood was hard enough. But as it turns out, the other family Luna is descended from carries secrets far more dangerous than the occasional article on the Ministry of Magic's secret plot to turn goblins into pies. Now that the power Luna has safeguarded all of her life has spilled out, she is prepared to suffer the same lonely fate as those who came before her: that to be a Tempesta is to bear their heavy burden alone, cut off from any who might help, if only to spare their lives.


	4. Tempesta Limitus

Notes: Maybe I shouldn't have said five chapters max on this one, because I'm pretty positive it won't be done by then.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 4: Tempesta Limitus**

* * *

From a very young age, Luna Lovegood was taught to be an open-minded, compassionate person.

This was not, however, simply because her parents were also open-minded, compassionate people.

It was because Luna, like her mother, Aeris Tempesta (and her mother before her, Hiemalis Tempesta), had inherited enormous magical potential, and every daughter in their family was trained to contain this gift, but never to use it. They had once been widely known as the Stormkeepers (but, that name being rather obvious and all, led to their often being manipulated in plots involving dark magic), but were now thought of mostly as legends, except for the few departments in the Ministry of Magic that had been called in to deal with them. Consequently, the Tempestas (not unlike the Lovegoods) had a long history of being both eccentric outcasts in the magical community, as well as fairly even-tempered ones.

Contrary to popular belief, it is exceedingly easy to upset a Tempesta. What is not so easy is convincing them to express that upset in a satisfying manner (for their tormentors, at least). Ironically enough, what most people failed to pick up on was that had any Tempesta simply been accepted as a functioning member of society, their power would have been remarkably easy to restrain.

But that has never been the case. The Tempestas were constantly met with unfriendly opposition, which almost always eventually triggered the destructive release of their potential. In most cases, no one but immediate family had ever been hurt by these explosions of power, and so the Ministry of Magic has only so many restrictions in place regarding the Tempestas. Any public property owned by a Tempesta was required to have certain magic-absorbing wards, and no more than three Tempestas were allowed to gather in the same public place at one time.

By the time she began her studies at Hogwarts, Luna was far too used to such prejudice, if not because of the similar backgrounds of both her families, then because of her personal beliefs. Despite all that, she still maintained a largely sunny outlook (partially out of necessity, all things considered), and firmly believed that the world was basically occupied by good people with a few bad apples sprinkled in. Any time she was faced with a situation where she might be expected to feel sad, angry, or otherwise upset, Luna simply reminded herself that the worst was behind her. After all, there were not many negative circumstances at Hogwarts that could compare to the sight of her mother literally being ripped apart by her own magical winds.

Still, Luna found her patience quite tested by the time she entered her fifth year. Despite their supposed brainpower, her fellow Ravenclaws, as a whole, had still not quite figured out that they had little or no good reason to torment her. If anything, they were becoming more imaginative in their pranks, and with the assistance of some Slytherin girls that had finally taken an interest, more dangerous. Luna had become accustomed to her property going missing for the entire school year. But suddenly, people were shoving her down staircases, cursing her school books to explode in her hands, and even tainting her food with mysterious potions, to the point where Luna had to get her meals directly from the house-elves in the kitchen.

Luna never reported any of these incidents, no matter how worrying they were, but she imagined that several of her friends (none of whom shared her house) had by now, despite her assurances that she was fine. Harry Potter in particular had made it known that if he ever caught anyone harassing Luna, they would answer to him and the worst hex he could possibly come up with. This threat was made far more imposing by the fact that Harry was best friends with Hermione Granger, who was practically a walking spell book, even by Ravenclaw standards. Luna had come to regard them as her closest friends, partially because Hermione had done her best to make most of Luna's possessions hex-proof, but mostly because Harry had actually begged Luna to request a transfer to Gryffindor, which neither of their Heads of House had opposed, but would only grant if Luna asked for it.

Unfortunately, as Gryffindors, neither Harry nor Hermione were allowed in Ravenclaw Tower, and they had no way of knowing what all went on there, unless Luna bore visible signs of the abuse when she emerged, or if she happened to mention it in passing. And after seeing the way that Harry exploded over what she saw as the smallest offenses against her, Luna learned to largely keep her mouth shut. She knew Harry meant well, and she appreciated the concern, but Luna felt that Harry's anger was best directed at Death Eaters, not their fellow students. Hermione could usually be counted on to keep Harry rational, but she was just as effective at focusing his rage when she felt a cause was worthy enough. Luna understood their devotion to her well-being: Harry was a victim of abuse himself, and Hermione could not bear to watch anyone or anything suffer needlessly. However, she assumed that they were overreacting to her situation, and downplayed the incidents when possible. She didn't doubt for a second that Harry would willingly get expelled if it meant protecting her (Hermione might risk a couple of House points, possibly a bad mark or two).

Luna could see the big picture. Harry was a hero, not just for her, but for the entire wizarding world. Hermione was a witch with unlimited brainpower and potential. Luna didn't want to distract them with her own problems, not when they could be helping so many others who needed them more. The mere fact that they wanted to protect Luna was enough for her, and she made sure to tell them so often.

"This isn't something that will just go away by itself, Luna," Hermione always told her. "I know from experience that bullies don't back down unless something forces them to. But these are bullies with magic. That means they can do twice as much harm with half the effort. I can understand if you only want so much of our help, but you need to be careful, especially if you intend to face this alone." She thought she understood (or at least accepted) Luna's independence, and was trying to be better about not forcing her ideas on people.

Harry was the more forceful of the two. He was convinced that Luna would need his help one day, and it was exceedingly difficult for her to keep turning him down. For one thing, Harry just seemed to have this need to help people. Hermione always called it his "saving people thing," but it was more than that. Luna felt that Harry might actually spontaneously combust if he couldn't help people at regular intervals. She sometimes went to the trouble of asking him to walk her to her classes, not because she needed the protection, but because she enjoyed his company and it gave him something to do.

Luna knew they would never stop trying to help, and she deeply appreciated it. But she also knew that they could never understand. She didn't refuse their offers out of pride, but out of necessity. Her mother had trained her to be self-reliant, not because people wouldn't accept her, but because there was only one person that could effectively restrain Luna's enormous power, and that was Luna herself. She could not afford to depend on others to solve her problems, because if anything ever happened to her friends, those problems would remain hers, and she would still have to deal with them on her own.

The only problem with that line of thinking was that it led to everyone getting hurt.

Harry and Hermione were hurt, if only slightly, because they thought that Luna didn't fully trust them to help her.

Luna was hurt twice over: she felt the pain she so obviously caused her friends by keeping them at a distance, as well as the pain from her never-ending abuse.

And though it didn't happen until much later, Luna's tormentors would be hurt worst of all, though in the end, no one could say that they hadn't deserved it.

* * *

Luna had been taught to see her power as a living thing, worthy of her respect and constantly needing her protection. As a young girl, Luna had decided to take this lesson literally, and made an effort to communicate with her power no less than once a week. Her family had not protested this, and though Luna suspected that they were only humoring her, she kept up the practice, fully believing that her power would appreciate the effort. For a time, things were fine.

Except that one day, her power started talking back, and it was nowhere near as nice as Luna had always dreamed it would be.

It did not understand or accept the idea that it was meant to be contained, and desired, more than anything, to be used and released upon the world. Even worse, Luna found that she was tempted to use her true power far more than she would've liked. So many times she considered adding just a bit more power to weaker spells, or using just a little force to discourage those who were mean to her. Luna's father had told her many times that she'd inherited her mother's curiosity, and that she needed to be especially careful when trying new magic. Luna resisted the temptation only because she knew how disastrous the results could be, for both her friends and enemies.

Ironically, the problem with keeping her power a secret from the other Hogwarts students was that none of them ever learned to fear it, or Luna.

On the other hand, even if Dumbledore had included teasing Luna on the list of the usual start of year dangers, it only would have increased the number of people determined to make her miserable. The fastest way to get anything done at a school of magic was to make a rule against it. Likewise, the fastest way to get a secret exposed was to offer a single hint and let curious young minds do the rest. So it was far easier to conceal Luna's secret entirely, as only select members of the staff even knew about it in the first place.

* * *

"I could skip classes today, you know," Ginny said for the sixth time.

"No, I really don't think you could," Luna replied, burrowing deeper under the blanket. "Professor McGonagall seems like the type of teacher that would come and get you even if you skipped a class other than hers. You should go."

"But will you be okay by yourself?"

"I told you, I won't be by myself. Hermione's going to walk with me, and then I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore, and he'll walk me back here. Neville's even promised to order me a Tibetan attack plant to guard the door."

"What will that do?"

"Something really unpleasant, I suspect. But only if you don't know the safe word. It'll have to be something really obscure, like kumquat or rutabaga."

Ginny stared at her blankly. "Maybe you should work on that after you've eaten, Luna. At least come and have breakfast with me!"

"No, I already told Hermione I'd wait for her. She'll worry if I'm not here."

"Hermione's smart, she'll figure it out!"

Luna shook her head. "Actually, because she's smart, she's more likely to imagine a hundred different ways I could get myself kidnapped before breakfast. At least, I would if I were her. Anyway, I don't think I'm ready to face the other houses yet. Or they're not ready. One of those."

Ginny seemed to wilt a bit. "Okay, if that's how you feel. And Luna?"

"Yes?"

"I-I'm here for you. If you need anything at all, just ask. I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this. Whatever you-"

"Ginny?" Luna interrupted. "You're a wonderful friend, but you're going to miss breakfast. I'll be fine."

Ginny looked as if she wanted to say something else, but forced herself to make do with a stiff nod and a watery smile before slipping out of the room.

Luna sighed and stuck her head under the pillow. She liked Ginny, she really did, but last night and most of this morning had just been awkward. Ginny kept treating Luna like she was an invalid, and the pampering had grown stale about twenty minutes in. Luna knew that Ginny meant well, and she appreciated the effort, but she was seriously considering asking to sleep with Hermione tonight. It would hurt Ginny, but it might also send the message that Luna was hoping to convey without her having to say anything. Well, it was either that or ask to sleep with Harry, and Luna was sure that wouldn't end well for a number of reasons.

About twenty minutes later, Luna met Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, and together they walked to the north tower, coming to a stop beside the ladder leading to the Divination classroom, where Dumbledore had asked to meet Luna. Hermione insisted on waiting with her, which Luna allowed only because Hermione agreed to a game of Exploding Snap. By the time Dumbledore arrived, Hermione had extinguished her sleeves several times.

"Oh, Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, quickly sweeping the cards into her bag (which was a mistake, as several of them went off at that moment). "We were just passing the time!"

"You may relax, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied with a warm smile. "You have the distinct honor of addressing the International Exploding Snap Champion of 1910, 1912, and 1915."

Hermione gaped at him in shock.

"Did you miss the years in between?" Luna asked.

"Oh, goodness, no. Incidentally, there was a cocky young wizard by the name of Jimmy Sobrias entered those years. Horrible manners, but an excellent Exploding Snap player. He won in 1911, 1913, and 1916."

"What about 1914?"

"In that year, we both had the distinctive misfortune of catching the same nasty cold, and had to drop out. I would be perfectly willing to amaze you with the details of our numerous battles at some later date. For now, there is a conversation that Miss Lovegood and I have unfortunately been neglecting for some time." Dumbledore turned his gaze on Hermione. "You are welcome to stay, Miss Granger, provided that you have Miss Lovegood's permission to do so. Otherwise, I think this would best be a private matter."

Hermione looked at Luna with pleading eyes, but Luna only smiled and said, "Thank you for waiting with me, Hermione. I'll see you later."

Pouting, Hermione gave Luna a parting hug before leaving.

Dumbledore gestured to the ladder. "Ladies first."

Luna climbed up with no problem, but was rather amazed when Dumbledore literally shot up after her like a rocket, even having to clear away the smoke once he landed. "Could I learn to do that?" she asked in awe.

"I suspect you already have the power to do so, and just require the proper lessons, so yes, I should think so."

Luna frowned slightly at the reminder of why they were meeting at all. "I see."

Dumbledore peered at her closely. "Do you recall the first time we ever met, Miss Lovegood?"

"Yes, in great detail. You welcomed me to Hogwarts and said that your door was always open if I had any questions or concerns."

"That is still true. Is there anything you feel the need to discuss with me?"

Luna started to speak, stopped, then started again. "Is Harry going to be punished for what he did?"

"I can no more punish Harry for his involvement than I could the unfortunate students who are no longer with us. So no, he will not be punished. No one will be, in fact. All I can do is reiterate the need to follow the rules already in place, and present this as an example of why tampering with magic beyond your own experience and knowledge can be potentially fatal."

"They aren't going to like that, though."

Dumbledore shook his head. "What we would like and what we get are often two very different things. For example, I would like it if the other Ravenclaws had recognized you for your intelligence and curiosity, as the Sorting Hat so obviously did. Then we would not be having this conversation at all, I suspect. I must ask that you trust me handle this situation. However, expect things to worsen before they improve. I will soon have no choice but to inform the families of the departed students, and I know they will not be pleased."

"How will you explain their deaths?"

"The very same way I just explained them to you. If they insist on details, I shall be forced to reveal that their beloved daughters were behaving in a most despicable manner, and that anything that happened to them as a result is on their own heads. But the blame shall fall on me, as Headmaster, regardless."

Luna frowned. "Will the school be forced to close? Because of me?"

"You cannot and will not be blamed for any of the recent events, Miss Lovegood. I will not allow it. I do not recall anyone informing me that you asked those girls to torment you. Even if you had, common sense and human decency should have prevented them. What happened was in no way your fault, so there is little point in assigning blame to yourself. Aside from that, I have taken some precautions for the immediate future." Dumbledore drew what looked like a large, dull blue coin on a chain from his pocket and held it out to Luna.

For no reason that she understood, Luna drew away from the object. "What is it?"

"A token of a very old friend of mine. He was, or at least claimed to be, an ice ifrit. Whatever he was, he had a gift for ice-related magic, and this was among the most prized of his possessions. I think it would greatly benefit you to wear it for the time being."

Luna slowly stretched out her hand and grasped the chain. It was cold, but not unnaturally so, and she easily slipped the chain around her neck. At once, an intense chill passed through her body, but it was gone in an instant.

"It is my opinion that your powers as a Tempesta are largely heat-based," Dumbledore explained. "If that is true, then this token should effectively suppress those powers. There is, however, a risk: not in the token itself, but in its combination with your powers. It is my theory that your powers have had a greater impact on your life than even you yourself are aware of. I would ask that you pay especially close attention to any changes you may notice, and please alert me at once if you experience any discomfort."

"Thank you, Professor," Luna said quietly, carefully grasping the coin in both hands. "I'll be very careful with it."

"I know that you will, Miss Lovegood. Now, there are other matters that demand my immediate attention, so I'm afraid we'll have to leave things as they are, for the time being. Please do not concern yourself with the fate of your friends, at least as far as this incident is concerned. I could never punish any of my students for protecting their friends, nor would I allow anyone else to do so. If, at any time, you fear anyone else may be targeted in retaliation, no matter what house they belong to, I must implore to inform me."

"Yes, of course. I don't want anyone else to be hurt."

"Which is exactly why I made the request of you. Now, I know that I am no spring chicken, as they say, but would you still allow a somewhat older man the pleasure of your arm?"

Luna beamed and took his arm, and together they made for quite a sight, skipping along the halls of Hogwarts as if neither one had a care in the world.

* * *

Luna was deposited (somewhat literally, as she took a running leap and landed in his lap) in Harry's care, and they spent much of their time in the Gryffindor common room, reviewing a personal project of hers: an essay on the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, which she was eventually planning to show to Hermione. Harry was not sure how Hermione would react, but seemed hopeful that Luna's determination alone would be impressive enough.

At some point, Harry became aware that Luna was staring at him. He did not immediately react to this, partially because he was nearly used to Luna's stares, but mostly because he felt sure Luna would approach the subject herself eventually.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Luna blinked (she may have done it earlier than that, but Harry was so busy pretending he wasn't noticing her staring that he'd probably missed it), and said, "Harry, we need to talk."

"Sure, Luna. What's on your mind?"

"I want to know what you're going to do about Hermione."

Harry stared at her. "Sorry?"

"I mean, you haven't even told her that you like her!"

Harry was gaping now. "Are you serious? She's one of my best friends and she's brilliant! She knows I like her!"

"You know what I mean, Harry."

He sighed. "Yes, I do. What's your point?"

"My point is that girls like it when someone they like tells them that they're liked, so get to it!"

"I can't just tell Hermione that!"

"And why not?"

"Aside from it already being obvious, what else would I say?"

"Ask her out, of course," Luna replied simply. "Take her for a walk around the castle. I've seen other couples do it, and the scenery is wonderful."

"It isn't that simple, Luna."

"Only because you're complicating it."

"You're telling me to ask out my best friend, and I'm the one complicating things?"

Luna sighed. "Do you want someone else to ask her out? Again?"

Harry frowned. "No."

"Well, already having a boyfriend is an excellent prevention method, don't you think?"

"B-Boyfriend? Who said anything about that? I haven't even asked her out yet!"

"Which is exactly my point. You won't be considered for the job if you haven't shown any interest in it. What are you going to do if another boy asks Hermione out? She won't have any reason to refuse him, unless you give her one."

"But I don't know what to do! She'll think I'm an idiot!"

"Don't be silly, Hermione already knows you. Even if you're an idiot on the date, she'll think it's charming and like you even more, based on the fact that you tried at all, in the name of impressing her. That's all she really wants: to know that you tried. As the long you make an effort, everything else will fall into place, you'll see."

Harry scowled. "Luna, have you ever even been on a date?"

Luna seemed surprised. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"So you're not really in a position to give me dating advice, are you?"

"Well, I don't know. You could argue that I've never had a bad date."

"Because you're never had a date at all!"

Luna shook her head. "All I know is that Hermione is waiting for you to do something, and if you don't, someone else will. I'd rather see you two happy together than with other people. I'm only trying to help you. It's the least I could do."

"Luna, you don't have to repay us."

"That's not what this is, Harry. What happened to me reminded me that life can be short and cruel. You need to grasp all the happiness you can, while you can. You, especially. There are far more determined people out to harm you, too. Don't let this chance with Hermione slip away. There may not be another. Please, just think about doing something. I may not always be here to push you."

"Why wouldn't you?" Harry demanded at once.

Luna blinked, a little startled. "No reason."

"Don't do that, Luna," he said sternly. "Not after we nearly lost you."

"You can't always depend on anything, Harry. Best to accept that now." Luna left him staring after her and headed up to the dormitories, somewhat surprised to find Hermione waiting on the stairs. From the look on her face, it was clear she had been there for some time, and had heard much, if not all, of Luna's conversation with Harry.

"What are you up to, Luna?" Hermione asked softly.

"If you don't want Harry as your boyfriend, tell me now and I'll stop," Luna said plainly.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Actually, I don't. Not anymore." Luna blinked, fingering the coin around her neck. "Maybe there's a reason for that."

"I don't mind you pushing Harry and I together, we actually needed that. But why are you in such a hurry to do it?"

"Why aren't you?" Luna countered. "You should know, better than anyone, that Harry and his friends are in constant danger. Why aren't you treasuring every moment you have with him? You could lose him any day now."

"Don't talk like that, Luna!" Hermione gasped.

"I have to. No one else will." Luna sighed and grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "If I was gone tomorrow, what would be your biggest regret?"

"But you won't-!"

"But what if I was?"

Hermione frowned and murmured, "That I didn't spend more time with you until now."

"Now, imagine how much worse you'd feel if that happened to Harry instead. You two are lucky: you both know how the other feels. Most people don't even have that. Don't waste it. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Harry. He needs and deserves someone who will love him the way you do. Go to him now, Hermione, while you still can." Luna stepped past her and headed for Ginny's room, hoping that Hermione decided to take her advice, for once.

* * *

Luna was shaken awake several hours later by a frantic Ginny. The reason for this was not immediately clear: Ginny was shouting, and so were the other girls in the room, and all Luna wanted was to get back to sleep.

She gradually became aware of an intensely itchy sensation in her arms, just as her sleepy brain unfogged and allowed her to hear what Ginny had been yelling all along.

"Your arms, Luna, look at your arms!"

Luna looked, and her eyes widened.

The previously healed skin on her arms, which had retained no trace of her wounds after Madam Pomfrey's treatment, seemed to be going back in time. Luna watched in horror as white scar tissue filled in where the accursed letters had been, and then began to turn black, then an angry red, looking as if they might start bleeding at any moment.

She risked a glance at Ginny at the other girls, and the stares she found were not encouraging ones. However, Luna forced herself to smile, despite the severity of what they'd all just seen. "Don't worry," she told them, trying to sound unconcerned. "Professor Dumbledore warned me that something like this might happen. I'll just go and see him in the morning."

"But doesn't it hurt now?" Ginny whispered, near tears.

Luna smiled at her. "No, it really doesn't. It looks worse than it feels, trust me."

"Are you sure you don't want-"

"I'm fine, Ginny. Let's just go back to sleep, all of us."

The other girls seemed just as reluctant as Ginny, but they all got back into bed.

Luna doubted that any of them slept much, because the tension remained in the room like a living thing, and Luna herself didn't sleep at all. It was partially out of guilt, for lying to Ginny and her new Gryffindor friends. But it was mostly because of the discomfort that Dumbledore had mentioned. In the moments that her wounds returned, Luna had felt the corresponding pain for each one, as if Pansy were branding her all over again. But instead of fading, the pain remained a constant thing, and Luna only managed to sleep hours later, when it finally overwhelmed her exhausted body.

She had correctly guessed that Dumbledore's token was to blame for her injuries returning, or at least that it had turned off the power that had allowed her to recover so quickly in the first place. But simply taking the token off never even entered Luna's mind, for one simple reason: she refused to harm anyone else the way she had her tormenters. It was her duty as a Tempesta to bear the burden of her pain alone, and it was her duty as a decent person not to bring harm to others. She would just have to find a way to deal with them both.

No matter the cost to herself.

* * *

Continued in **Chapter 5: Obliviate**

Draco Malfoy was raised in a house of secrets and lies, and knows all too well that each comes with a price. So, too, does every foolish action, and when his housemates decide to involve themselves in a crisis beyond their grasp, Draco finally makes the choice between what is right, and what is easy, with no hesitation.


	5. Obliviate

Notes: The main reason for the delay: I'm not crazy about this chapter, but I did want to cover a Slytherin perspective, if only briefly.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 5: Obliviate**

* * *

Draco Malfoy learned about the Tempestas when he was ten years old, through his usual method of obtaining forbidden knowledge: eavesdropping on his father's meetings. Of course, Lucius Malfoy had never, in Draco's lifetime, been ill-practiced at knowing when he was being spied on, so it became increasingly difficult for young Draco to listen in. Other boys might have been discouraged, but few things had given Draco greater pleasure than knowing something his father did not. So instead of giving up, Draco had only become more creative, to the point where even the twin brothers Weasley would have shed a tear at his ingenuity. He had become especially good at a hex that, while it painfully doubled the size of one ear, also made it twice as good at hearing.

Unfortunately, Lucius had quickly come up with a counterspell for even that, so Draco had been forced to bump the enlargement up to three times normal size. He was likely to have horrible headaches and uneven balance for a few days afterward, but it was always worth it: Lucius didn't attempt to conceal anything that wasn't worth concealing in the first place.

This was how Draco earned his first mention of the Tempestas, though at the time, the only accompanying words he was able to make out were "explosion" and "disaster," which sounded quite promising. Unable to get anything else out of his father, Draco had gone to his most reliable source: his mother. She almost always knew the same things his father did (and not always because Lucius had told her, either; Draco's snooping skills were largely inherited), and was not as reluctant to share news with Draco. Her dream was for her son to become a powerful man, and he simply couldn't do that if information was withheld from him.

On the Tempestas, however, Narcissa Malfoy had been unusually brief. "They're especially powerful witches that have some control over our weather. I say some because you usually don't hear about them until they blow up, taking as many people as possible with them. You stay away from them if you can help it, Draco. No good can come of being mixed up with them, despite what your father might think. You don't want to get blown up, do you?"

Having seen one of his playmates killed by a misfired spell at the age of eight, Draco knew very well what it felt like to be near someone who got blown up, and had no desire to experience it for himself. Still, it was years before he ever heard the Tempestas mentioned again, and not surprisingly, someone had supposedly been blown up then, too.

* * *

Pansy Parkinson was generally recognized as the girlfriend of Draco Malfoy among Slytherins. All this really meant was that Draco spent significantly less time bragging in front of girls other than Pansy, and that Pansy was only ever seen being physically affectionate with Draco. Not surprisingly, the only agreement between them was that they not make each other look bad while they were "together." Draco did not actually have anything permanent in mind where Pansy was concerned: he assumed they would be together for much of, if not all of their Hogwarts years, and then they would go their separate ways. Even if they did break up, he could think of several girls that would give their left arms to merely be thought of as his girlfriend. It would be annoying to properly train another, as he had gotten used to Pansy (was almost fond of her, really).

The morning she didn't show up at breakfast was very unusual. Pansy usually sent word through one of her errand girls if she wasn't going to be where Draco expected, but there were no messages that day. Even stranger, no one had seen her since the previous night. It was possible (though unlikely) that Pansy was spending time with another boy, had simply lost track of time, and was now avoiding Draco, but he dismissed it as impossible. If Pansy were going to bother to cheat on him, she would have a plan firmly in place, and would be anything but obvious about it. That was part of why Draco put up with her in the first place: he could count on her to be just as clever as he when it became necessary.

Then the rumors began to surface, and Draco found himself with a whole new list of issues to deal with. People were saying that not only Pansy, but just over a handful of students were missing or presumed dead. Draco refused to believe it solely on principle: there was no way Pansy would get herself killed while pranking some silly Ravenclaw. It simply made no sense. Yet he could not deny that Pansy and Millicent were missing, and with no one telling them the whole story, people began to create their own versions.

If Professor Snape knew anything, he wasn't talking, nor had Draco expected him to. But the other teachers were not quite so guarded (or at least wary of students in their own house), and news of Harry Potter's involvement soon reached Draco's magically enlarged ears. Even then, Draco didn't believe it. Famous Harry Potter didn't have the nerve to kill, not on purpose. Still, it did fit that Potter would rush to a friend's rescue, and everyone knew that Lovegood, however nuts she was, was a friend of his. She'd been among the missing, at first, until it turned out she'd just been in the infirmary for a few days. No wonder they'd thought she was missing: who would bother to visit her there?

Draco decided to get the final pieces of the puzzle from the best possible source: the Ravenclaws themselves. For supposedly being so brilliant, they were surprisingly predictable in that large groups typically met and studied in the library. It was all too easy for Draco to overhear them there, but what he heard was far from what he expected. For one thing, one or more of the Ravenclaws that had been members of Dumbledore's Army had chosen to go back and arm the rest of the house with the spells they'd learned, though this was less a betrayal and more house loyalty than anything else. Even better, the older Ravenclaws maintained a full list of supposedly every spell that any top student had ever learned. Potter and Granger had even earned highlighted sections on the list (Granger for quantity, Potter for power and style), but then so had Draco himself (for hex and curse specialization). By the time the Ravenclaws actually got around to discussing current events, Draco had learned more from them than he ever had in any class lecture. He was sure there were Slytherin students who knew just as much, but being Slytherins, they were far less likely to share it.

Unfortunately for Draco, the Ravenclaws confirmed his fears: Pansy and Millicent were dead by Potter's hand. Normally, this information would have sent Draco into a rage, if only because a Gryffindor had triumphed over two Slytherins. The worst part, by far, however, was that Lovegood had somehow killed the other five students. Draco liked to think he was a decent judge of character, and she was the only one of Potter's friends he would have said was more likely to be killed before she finished school, not the other way around. That she was capable of killing anyone made him rethink that in a hurry. Still, he needed to know how she'd done it. Lovegood had never shown any signs of having the attitude or the power necessary to kill any one person, much less five. A few more minutes of spying gave him the answer, from the lips of a Ravenclaw that had overheard a conversation between Professors Flitwick and McGonagall: Lovegood was a Tempesta.

It was not quite fear that seized Draco in the moment, because the idea of being afraid of Lovegood still seemed ridiculous to him. Perhaps a profound sense of caution was the best phrase for it. Except that caution had little to do with the image of Pansy screaming as she was blown to bits that took root in his brain and seemed to replay itself each time he closed his eyes. At any rate, he had learned more than enough, and after restoring his ear to its rightful size, returned to his dormitory to think. It would have been nice to sleep, but considering the visions that occupied him while awake, Draco didn't dare risk it.

* * *

Blaise Zabini had built up a reputation for being a young man of action. In a less intelligent person, such a quality would have made them a thoughtless brute. Blaise, however, was swift both in mind and action: he could often react both quickly and efficiently simply because his mind was so sharp. Draco had never liked him (their popularity had remained at similar levels, which automatically made them threats to each other), but they formed a grudging respect out of convenience: Draco could not focus on hating Gryffindors if he constantly had to worry about Blaise stabbing him in the back. Likewise, Blaise's mother had money, but the Malfoys had money and wealth, so he wasn't about to make an enemy of their heir, yet.

Unfortunately, both Draco and Blaise were admired by many of the same people, so whenever there was a rallying cry among Slytherins, it had to come from one of them, and the other was almost obligated to join in for appearance's sake. Even without Draco confirming Pansy's death, plenty of Slytherins were wary of any further action against Lovegood or Potter.

Blaise was not among them, nor had Draco expected him to be. Instead, he had formed a small war party, intending to, at the very least, finish what Pansy had started on Lovegood's arms. After that, Draco could easily imagine where Blaise's mind would take him: they were both rather obvious about their preferences (how else could they expect people to know what they liked?). It was not so much that Draco himself was disgusted by the actual act, he simply would have preferred almost anyone other than Lovegood. Not for the first time, he wondered why Pansy couldn't have targeted prettier girls. Then he wouldn't have minded joining in, though perhaps that was actually why Pansy never bothered with pretty ones.

Draco voiced no protest, but of course, Blaise chose to call him out in the common room.

"How about it, Malfoy? Want in on the fun? Your late girlfriend would expect you to be on board with this."

Draco knew perfectly well how Pansy would feel about his even touching another girl, but didn't say so. "I can't imagine why you think you'd know anything about what Pansy wanted, Zabini. She was my girl, not yours."

Blaise couldn't resist the bait. "I know she probably told you that, but you shouldn't believe everything you hear. Perfect example: when you hear about how much fun we have with Lovegood? It'll be a complete understatement."

Draco ignored the insult, feeling he had to at least warn them. "Let it go. Pansy was no slouch, and she's dead now."

"She couldn't have been that good, since as you pointed out, she is dead. I won't let you spoil the party this time, Malfoy. Have fun being a bore."

Draco went for his wand without even thinking about it, Stunning Blaise before the boy could even start to reach for his own wand. The other Slytherins looked on in shock as Draco advanced, keeping his wand trained on Blaise's fallen, frozen body. "Now that I've got your attention, it's time you idiots learned the danger you almost walked into blindly. Take a seat and I'll explain."

* * *

The next time Draco saw Luna Lovegood, he was not so certain he'd made the right choice.

Though he had never paid much attention to her, she looked positively dreadful now: there were bags under her bloodshot eyes, her hair was a mess, and every step she took seemed to require great effort. Draco suspected that an angry hamster could do her in the way she was now. Others must have thought so to, because she was surrounded by a small army of no less than four Gryffindors everywhere she went.

Draco thought he should be satisfied, or at least glad that she was in such a state. Maybe she hadn't killed Pansy, but that was probably only because Potter had beaten her to it. Surely, seeing Lovegood as a wreck should have brought him some joy.

But the only thing Draco was reminded of when he looked at Lovegood was that Pansy would have thoroughly enjoyed seeing her that way. Somehow, that only made him feel sick inside.

* * *

Blaise woke up in his bed with a mild headache and no memory of the past few hours.

"Can't handle your pumpkin juice anymore, Zabini?" Draco drawled from the doorway.

Blaise glared at him, and for some reason, felt a stronger dislike than he usually did for Draco. He had a very vague suspicion that he should be angry about something, but had no idea what. "Get lost, Malfoy. Go play with your slutty girlfriend or something."

He was quite unprepared for the blank look that settled on Draco's face, having been expecting rage. "Can't. She's dead."

For a long moment, Blaise just gaped at him. He wasn't sure how he had forgotten that. Finally, he shook his head and muttered, "So? Probably wouldn't stop you, anyway."

Draco gave a forced bark of laughter, but didn't leave. "You know, you're a real prat, Zabini. In general, of course, but you're also pretty bad at resisting Memory Charms."

"What the hell did you do to me, Malfoy?" Blaise demanded. "What did you make me forget?"

"Not much. Just saved your life, is all. You want to thank me for that, later. I might even be convinced to do it a second time. Maybe."

"You? Save me? You wouldn't unless there was something in it for you!"

"Who says there isn't?" Draco's eyes narrowed. "Tell me, what do you think of the Dark Lord?"

Blaise was silent for a long moment. "We don't speak of him in my family," he replied at last.

"Not what I asked, though."

"I can keep an open mind. Why?"

"What do you mean, why? You think I'm doing a bloody survey? Why would anyone in Slytherin ask?"

"I get it, you want me on his side, with you. You tell me why I should."

Draco smirked. "So you won't end up like my dead girlfriend, for one thing."

That was, all things considered, a pretty effective argument. "I'm listening."

* * *

Continued in **Chapter 6: Confundo**

Harry gets a distraction from Luna's problems in the form of Hermione, who suddenly seems to think they ought to try kissing. Though Harry doesn't feel the least bit like kissing, once it's actually happening, Luna is the furthest thing from his mind. Which is probably exactly what she was after in the first place.

* * *

Endnotes:

I may be overestimating the potential combined intelligence of Ravenclaws, but I doubt it. The most common way to learn a spell is to either watch someone else do it, or have them do it to you. At some point, there would probably be some spying on the brainy, bushy-haired girl making Ravenclaw look bad.

Supposedly the Zabini family is both rich and wealthy, as opposed to just rich, but considering how rarely they're mentioned, I assume they're either not as wealthy as the Malfoys, or not as influential. Either way, Blaise would have reason to envy Draco.


	6. Confundo

Notes: I should have pointed this out sooner, and people who paid attention to the fact that Harry knew Sectumsempra probably knew it immediately, but this story is set in Book 6. And I should stress book, as opposed to movie, since you'll find the Patil twins in their originally intended houses.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 6: Confundo**

* * *

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room for several minutes after Luna left him. Part of him wanted to go after her and demand to know what she knew. He didn't like to think of what her comment about her not always being there might mean, but it worried him. Luna had to have her secrets, and Harry could respect that, but he had a bad feeling that Luna was trying to face something alone when she really needed his help.

Before Harry could do anything other than give the matter further thought, Hermione came down the steps, looking particularly numb. If not for the fact that she wandered over and sat next to him, Harry would not have thought she'd seen him at all.

"I've just spoken to Luna," Hermione murmured.

Harry nodded, understanding at once. It certainly explained the blank look on Hermione's face, as Luna often had that effect on people.

"She thinks we should be dating each other."

Harry nodded again, a bit more slowly. They were approaching dangerous ground now.

Hermione turned to him, the glassy look fading from her eyes. "I agree with her."

Harry's brain screeched to a halt. "Sorry, what?"

"You heard me, Harry James Potter, so don't pretend you didn't!"

"Yeah, but I don't remember you agreeing with Luna's ideas too often."

She frowned at him. "That's because they're usually concerned with things that don't actually exist or make the least bit of sense."

"And this is an exception how?"

Hermione's frown deepened. "Harry, you don't... want to be with me?"

"Hold on, I never said that!" Harry cried frantically. "It's just complicated, that's all!"

She sighed, shaking her head. "Harry, am I brilliant or not?"

He stared at her uncertainly. Hermione did not usually ask for compliments so boldly. Harry immediately began to suspect Luna's handiwork, or her wandwork, more likely. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any spell that would let him check for enchantments without Hermione noticing. "Yeah, you are."

"You'd trust me to save your life, wouldn't you?"

"You're kidding, right? I do that practically every week."

"So why can't you trust that I'd find a way for us to be together with minimal problems?"

Harry gaped at her stupidly. "Um. I guess I never considered that."

"But you are now, right?" Hermione asked, smiling brightly at him.

"Ron," Harry said hoarsely. "What about Ron?"

"You let me worry about him."

"No, since it's my face he'll be trying to punch in, I think I will worry about him, thanks. Again: what about Ron?"

Hermione sighed. "We could tell him together, I suppose."

"You'd have your wand out, of course," Harry added at once, "to Stun him. Then we could make him think we'd always been dating, and that he'd never broken up with Lavendar."

"Harry, that's not funny."

"Do you see me laughing?"

"We are not going to use magic on our best friend for this, Harry. It implies, among other things, that we have reason to be ashamed of our wanting to be together. I'm not ashamed, you had better not be, either!"

"I'm not!" Harry protested, though he sounded less sure than Hermione.

"No? Then kiss me. Right now."

Harry looked scandalized, though this was more an automatic reaction while his brain desperately tried to get itself to work properly. "Here?"

Hermione pounced on him, straddling his lap and moving her face close to his. "Here." She looked at him expectantly, which was drastically different from her looking at him as if she wanted to be kissed, in Harry's opinion. One of those would definitely make Harry seriously consider kissing her, but the other just made him feel awkward and trapped.

"Can't we discuss this?" Harry managed to squeak.

"Are you really going to attempt a conversation after I've asked you to kiss me?" Hermione asked, sounding both amused and somewhat annoyed.

"You didn't really ask, though. You sort of just jumped me and stuck your face in mine."

"Harry," Hermione said patiently, "if you don't kiss me soon, I'm going to be deeply offended. Deeply offended witches don't make good girlfriends. They don't even make decent friends, in fact. Especially when they happen to be very familiar with a wide range of hexes. So for your own safety, kiss me. Otherwise, I can't be held responsible for what I might do to you later."

Harry was certain no one had ever threatened him into kissing them, but he had a sinking feeling that Hermione would only do so once, and that the next time, he would be on the receiving end of a particularly nasty hex.

"Harry," Hermione repeated in a softer tone, lightly stroking his cheek with her fingers, "please?"

This was somehow much more effective than the threat. Now that Hermione looked as if she really wanted to be kissed, Harry could actually see himself giving into the request, and didn't feel quite so much like there was a firing squad at his back. Anyway, even if it turned out to be a horrible kiss, he could always point out later that it had been entirely her idea.

Only, it wasn't. Horrible, that is. It was actually rather spectacular.

Harry did not consider his past encounters with kissing experiences, exactly. That implied that those somehow made him better at it, and Harry didn't think they really counted in that respect. This was actually a very large part of why Harry wasn't eager to kiss Hermione: he was convinced he would be lousy at it, and he didn't want Hermione to have a memory of kissing him that was equally lousy. Knowing Hermione, instead of disliking him outright, she would pity him, and that was even worse. Harry considered all of this as he slowly moved his face closer to Hermione's, and it did not help with his serious case of nerves one bit.

For her part, Hermione, as she inevitably did when Harry was completely stumped, made things remarkably easier for him. Keeping her hand on his cheek, she guided his mouth to hers, tilting her head slightly just before their lips met.

Harry had felt completely unloved for nearly the first ten years of his life. As a result, he was keenly aware of the precious few moments where anyone had expressed their love for him in such a blatant manner that he was nearly moved to tears. He knew, without question, that this would become and remain his moment with Hermione, and that any time he began to question her feelings for him, he would only need to refer to this first kiss with her to know the truth. He was suddenly deeply sorry for Ron, because Ron would never experience this, and Harry would see to that. He would gladly die before he allowed anyone to take this sensation away from him. The warmth and softness of Hermione's lips seemed to cloud his entire brain, and Harry could not be sure how long the kiss even lasted.

All he knew was that at some point, he became aware of Hermione patting his cheek and calling his name over and over again, as if trying to wake him. Harry was not asleep, but after shaking his head lightly, his vision did clear a bit. The first thing he saw was Hermione's face hovering over his own. She was smiling, and if his hunch was right, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, Harry, did you really pass out?" she giggled, covering her mouth with a hand.

"What? I didn't!" Harry snapped, though he was no longer sure of any such thing.

"Maybe not, but you weren't exactly here with me, were you?"

"It was a really good kiss," Harry said defensively.

Hermione blushed. "Yes, I thought so, too. But maybe I should tone the next one down, if you're going to react that way."

"I'd rather risk it, thanks," he muttered, turning red himself.

This had clearly been the right thing to say, because Hermione leaned in and gave him one last peck on the lips before climbing off of him. "Goodnight, Harry. We can decide what to tell Ron in the morning."

Harry didn't look forward to that, but he still felt sort of giddy as he watched Hermione go back upstairs, and any worries he had about Ron were soon replaced by thoughts of Hermione and kissing.

* * *

As it turned out, Ron wasn't even an issue the next morning: both Harry and Hermione were apparently so content in their sleep, they slept in twenty minutes later than they normally would have. Ron had already gone to breakfast by the time Harry reached the common room, where he found something else to be concerned about. Several girls were crowded around Luna, who was trying her best to escape an armchair that they had seemingly forced her to sit in out of concern. Harry could immediately see why: there were bags under Luna's eyes, which were red and somewhat glassy, and her pale blond hair was more unkempt than usual. Luna also seemed very reluctant to allow people to touch her arms, which weren't fairing well with all the girls that kept trying to pat them reassuringly.

Overcome with sympathy for his friend, Harry found himself forcing his way through the crowd, pulling Luna up from the chair, and embracing her right there in front of everyone. He ignored the many gasps and coos of delight that this caused and held onto Luna tighter.

"Harry, everyone's looking," Luna murmured, but she did not resist at all, and even closed her eyes, as if enjoying his affection.

"So? I'm looking, too, and that's why I did it. You look like you needed this."

Luna only sighed, not in resignation, but in relief. She really had needed this, he could tell at once. "I'm so tired, Harry." She slipped her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Maybe you should go back to bed, Luna. I'm sure Profess-"

"No," Luna said abruptly, lifting her head. "I don't want to hide anymore."

"But you look like you're about to fall over any second!" Harry cried.

"I'm fine."

Harry stared at her. "Please don't lie to me, Luna. Not about this."

Her face softened. "Okay, I'm not fine. But resting is the last thing I want to do right now. I want to go to breakfast."

"I'll walk with you," Harry said at once.

She smiled. "I was hoping you might."

Harry frowned as they passed through the Fat Lady's portrait. "Where's Ginny and Hermione?"

"Hermione went to breakfast with Ron. She said something about wanting him in a good mood. I guess she took my advice after all. Oh, and Ginny probably went to tell Professor McGonagall about last night."

"Last night?" Harry asked.

Luna hesitated, then lifted the sleeve of her robe enough to expose the first few darkened letters on her arm. "They came back." She tried to drop her sleeve quickly, but Harry caught it, gently taking her arm in both his hands.

"Luna," he whispered, startled by the hurt in his voice. "Why didn't you say anything to me earlier?"

"Because of the way you're looking at me right now," she replied, smiling sadly. "Please don't feel sorry for me."

"I don't!" Harry answered fiercely. "I feel furious at them, and protective of you, but I don't-!" He stopped himself, not wanting to raise his voice at her. "I'm angry at myself, because I can't fix this."

"You don't have to fix it, Harry. Trust me, if I thought this was something a student could fix, I'd have asked Hermione before she left."

"Does it hurt?"

"All the time."

Harry gaped at her.

"You asked me not to lie," she reminded him.

"Luna, you-"

"I love that you care about me, Harry. But as you said, you can't fix this. Please try not to worry. Instead, worry about the things you can fix."

Harry took a deep, calming breath. "Cho Chang said she knows a spell that might retrieve some of your lost belongings. Do you want to try it? It's up to you."

"Oh, I would like my sneakers back. Mummy gave them to me. She even put an Unwearable Charm on them."

"So you can't wear them?" Harry asked, clearly perplexed.

"So they don't wear down," Luna corrected, giggling. "You're so silly, Harry. Sneakers you can't wear. Honestly!"

Feeling foolish, Harry quickly got the conversation back on track. "What I meant was, do you trust Cho?"

"I don't know," Luna admitted. "We're not friends, but she's never said anything mean to me. She seems nice, and you liked her well enough, didn't you?"

"That's complicated," Harry muttered, "and it wouldn't matter how I felt, if she were one of the people that was mean to you."

"But she wasn't. At least, I don't think she was. Most of them were pretty open about it."

"I'd go with you, of course. I'm sure Hermione would, too. She'd probably know better than anyone if it was a trick."

Luna seemed surprised. "You don't trust Cho?"

Harry shrugged. "More like I can't risk it anymore. I don't want to see you hurt again, Luna. If that means I can't trust the majority of Ravenclaw for the time being, that's the way it'll have to be."

* * *

Harry arranged to meet Cho after lunch. He wanted to believe it was a good sign that she was willing to help Luna, but it simply wasn't enough to go on. Hermione made sure she was available to come along, and to Harry's great surprise, so did Ron. At first, Harry had begun to hope that Ron had somehow found a deeper appreciation of Luna, but Ron proved him wrong.

"McGonagall's coming down hard on Ginny for coming to classes late because she was always checking on Luna. She said if Luna needed that much watching, she'd still be in the infirmary, and that thinking anything else was an insult to Madam Pomfrey. Ginny said she'd curse me if I didn't show up in her place. Anyway, can't miss a chance to take down Ravenclaw's Seeker, right?"

"Ron, only you would find a way to bring Quidditch into this," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "We're doing this for Luna!"

Ron was determined not to be painted as the bad guy, though. "Luna, you want Gryffindor to win the Cup this year, too, right?"

"Oh, that doesn't really matter to me, Ronald," Luna replied. "So long as one of my friends is on the team that wins, I'll be pleased."

"See! She wants us to win!" Ron crowed triumphantly.

The rest of the group firmly ignored him as they made their way to an empty classroom to wait for Cho.

She arrived less than two minutes later, looking uncertain and nervous. Harry noticed right away that much of this because of Luna, who Cho did not seem to want to get close to.

Hermione, sensing the tension, smiled brightly. "Hi, Cho. Thanks for doing this. We really appreciate it."

Cho looked at Hermione, but gave no sign that she actually recognized her, her gaze sliding right back to Luna.

"She's not going to explode, you know," Harry said after a moment.

Cho winced, looking ashamed. "I-I know that! It's just... never mind." She swallowed loudly and cleared her throat. "Luna, it'll help if you can think of anything specific that you lost."

Luna nodded. "My favorite pair of sneakers."

"Okay. Um, I think you'd better h-hold onto my h-hand when I do the s-spell," Cho stammered, suddenly looking extremely nervous.

Luna stared at her, which did nothing to calm Cho down. "No, I don't think you want me to at all. But the spell won't work unless I do, will it?"

Cho looked stricken. "I-I'm sorry! It's just... you killed her!"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Marietta," Hermione answered. "Marietta Edgecombe, Cho's best friend, was one of the Ravenclaws that day, Harry. Didn't you notice?"

"No," Harry answered truthfully. "I was focused on the Slytherins. I probably wouldn't even have noticed if Cho were there."

"You don't have to help me if it bothers you, Cho," Luna said. "I'm sure I'll find my sneakers eventually."

"Did you have to kill her?" Cho asked weakly. "She made some mistakes, but she wasn't a bad person! She didn't deserve to die like that!"

"I think you're under the wrong impression," Luna answered. "I didn't chose who I wanted to hurt. I didn't want to hurt anyone at all. That's why I work so hard to contain my power: because letting it out is always dangerous. I am sorry that you lost a friend, but if those are the kind of people she spent time with, maybe you're better off finding another friend."

"One that doesn't like torture so much might be a good starting place," Ron added before Hermione could elbow him into silence.

Cho ignored him, instead focusing on Harry. "You understand what it's like, don't you, Harry? People I'm close to keep dying. First Cedric, and now poor Marietta."

Harry frowned at her. "If you're trying to make me feel sorry for her, it's not going to happen. Your best friend had already betrayed us once. Then she participates in the attack on Luna, who never did anything to harm either of you. I didn't like Marietta, and I'm starting to lose the little like I had left for you, Cho. If you don't want to help us because your friend is dead, that's fine. But don't you dare stand here and try to paint her as the victim, because if she'd been even a halfway decent person, she wouldn't have been involved in the first place, and she'd still be alive today. Don't go around comparing her to Cedric, either. Somebody might mistake him as a junior Death Eater instead of a hero, or worse, mistake Marietta for a human being instead of an evil, pockmarked cow."

Luna tugged at his sleeve. "Harry, that was too much."

He could easily see that: Cho's face had gone blank, and he suspected that she was doing her best not to curse him on the spot. Her mouth twitched, and she was seconds away from speaking when Harry simply pulled up Luna's sleeve, revealing the scars on her arm. All the color drained out of Cho's face, and she turned and ran from the classroom.

"Well, that was a total waste of time," Ron grumbled.

"Maybe not," Hermione disagreed. "I have an idea which spell she would have used." She took Luna's hand in hers, pointed her wand upward, and shouted, "Reverto!"

Something like an electric charge seemed to pass through Harry, and he could tell the others felt it, too. He was just about to ask if something had gone wrong when something flew past his head at high speed, painfully clipping his ear. "Ow!"

"My sneakers!" Luna cried happily, seizing the multicolored, glittering shoes and hugging them tightly to her chest. "Thank you, Hermione!"

Hermione smiled warmly. "You're very welcome, Luna. Now, can you think of anything else that you lost?"

Luna nodded, thrusting the sneakers at Ron and taking Hermione's hand again.

This time when Hermione did the spell, Harry was sure to duck, but felt silly when a large, rainbow-colored afro zoomed into Luna's waiting arms. Luna stuffed it eagerly onto her head and seized Hermione's hand, ready to try again.

They kept going until nothing else would return, and Ron was buried to his waist in a small pile of Luna's belongings. It was more than Harry had hoped for, and for the moment, at least, Luna had either forgotten the constant pain she was in, or was simply doing an excellent job of hiding it.

Harry helped Ron lug Luna's belongings back to the Gryffindor common room while the girls walked in front of them, chatting excitedly.

"Too bad about Cho, huh?" Ron commented. "Probably good that you broke it off with her when you did."

Harry nodded, but inwardly wasn't too sure. He could certainly understand how it felt to lose several people you were close to, and he did feel bad for Cho. The difference was that Cedric had chosen what was right, and stood with Harry even when he really had no reason to. Marietta had done her best to make Cho view Harry and his friends as unreliable pests, though Harry himself had probably done much this day to solidify that in Cho's mind. Still, Harry found he didn't much care what Cho thought of him anymore, and now that he was with Hermione, Cho did not seem anywhere near as attractive as she once had. He was very much aware that he might have just made Luna a new enemy, but that was fine. Harry felt sure he could deal with Cho, without hesitation, if she became a problem, and failing that, Hermione certainly would.

* * *

Harry was summoned to Dumbledore's office later that day, but he never actually made it there.

He had gotten as far as the stone gargoyle when it leaped aside, and two people that Harry did not immediately recognize stepped off of the spiral staircase.

The first was a tall, dark-haired woman who was busy wiping tears of frustration from her face. She was accompanied by a small, skinny boy, who was most likely her son. There was something familiar about the woman, and Harry only saw why when she lowered her handkerchief: she looked almost exactly as Pansy would have, if she were about fifteen years older. Harry knew with unnerving certainty that this was Pansy's mother.

She noticed him at once, or more specifically, the scar on his forehead. Her eyes narrowed, and she whispered with a voice full of venom, "You!"

Harry had no idea if Dumbledore had told her everything, or if she just hated him because she was in league with Death Eaters, but decided it didn't much matter. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Parkinson."

"What would you know about my loss?" she demanded.

That was encouraging, at least: Dumbledore apparently hadn't named names. "Considering my parents were killed in a similar manner? Quite a lot, actually."

Her face reddened, but she said nothing.

"I didn't know Pansy well. We weren't friends, of course." Harry gestured to the Gryffindor crest on his robes.

"Of course," Mrs. Parkinson said mildly. "Is that all? I need to make final arrangements for my Pansy, I'm very busy at the moment."

"I just wanted to offer my condolences," Harry said, and that was all he could get out before she turned and walked away.

"Come along, Cypress!" she snapped over her shoulder.

The small boy didn't move, nor did his mother look to see if he was following. "You're Harry Potter," he said softly.

Harry nodded.

There was an unusual flash in Cypress's bright blue eyes, and Harry was suddenly reminded of Luna's knowing stare. "You killed my sister."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Why?" the boy whispered.

"She hurt a friend of mine very badly, for no reason. I was terribly angry."

"How did it feel? When you killed her?"

Harry felt certain the boy was asking because he intended to do the same to Harry. "It felt good at the time, because I was saving my friend from pain. Now I wish I hadn't gone quite so far. In some ways, I'm no better than the person who killed my parents. I have to live with what I've done."

Cypress nodded slowly. "Can you give me a reason? Why I shouldn't dedicate my whole life to killing you?"

"For one thing, there's a very good chance someone will beat you to it, and then what will you have? For another, I have many friends who would kill to avenge me. How would you feel if you lost your mother next? Do you really want to keep this cycle of bloodshed going?"

"No. I want my sister to be alive again."

There was something very hollow about the boy's words. Harry didn't doubt that he meant them, but they lacked a certain feeling. Even when Ron, Fred, and George teased Ginny, there was a certain affection and familiarity to it. But Harry could sense none of that here, and it both puzzled and bothered him. "Did you love your sister?"

"No," Cypress replied at once, with ease and sincerity. "She taught me my first spell, and let me sleep in her room when I had nightmares, but she never really liked me. How I felt about her doesn't matter. She was family, and I will avenge her death."

"Instead of doing that, why not do all you can to avoid repeating the circumstances that caused her death?" Harry suggested. "Whether she loved you or not, I don't think Pansy would want you to die the exact same way she did."

There was a long moment where neither of them spoke, and Harry knew that he was either about to gain another lifelong enemy, or learn something very profound.

"You are not at all what I pictured, when I learned someone had killed her," the boy said quietly. "You even seem to regret it. In some ways, you may care for her more than I ever was able to. So I will tell you something, Harry Potter, that most people outside of our family never learn: our dead always choose to return as ghosts."

At first, Harry thought Cypress was merely trying to scare him. Ghosts were old news to Harry, and most were remarkably like the living in that they could be avoided or driven away with a little effort. But as the smaller boy finally turned to follow his mother, Harry became aware of an intensely cold sensation at his side, and looked to the left to find the ghostly form of Pansy Parkinson staring sadly after her little brother. Harry's mouth went dry, not because of fear that Pansy might be haunting him, but because the look on her face (despite the fact that it was her face at all) made his heart want to break.

After several moments, Pansy became aware that he was staring at her. She glanced at him, blinked, then turned and slowly drifted away through a nearby wall without a word. Harry couldn't help noticing that the area around her waist had been particularly misty and ill-formed, as if she had been slashed in two.

"Harry?" a familiar voice asked.

Harry swallowed hard and turned to see Dumbledore stepping into the hallway, giving the stone gargoyle a fond pat as he did so.

"Is anything the matter, Harry?"

"Yeah, I-I just saw Pansy Parkinson's family, sir."

"Ah," Dumbledore said softly. "I suspect you may never see them again. Young Cypress is bound for Durmstrang when he is old enough. As I'm sure you can understand, Mrs. Parkinson refuses to entrust another of her children to me."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry apologized. "I know I've caused trouble for you again, but I swear I didn't mean to."

"Trouble, you say? Harry, you risked your life to save a friend yet again. I think we could all do with a bit more of that kind of trouble, don't you?"

* * *

Harry told only Hermione and Luna about seeing Pansy's ghost, as he assumed she would target the three of them for revenge, if no one else. Hermione was stunned, though more so by the fact that Pansy hadn't reacted at all to seeing Harry. Luna just seemed sad for Pansy, which Harry had expected but was still somewhat surprised by. He was starting to think that Luna must believe that even Voldemort was just a little misguided and unworthy of hatred.

Now that the families of the dead students were being informed, Hermione correctly assumed that Dumbledore would have to make an announcement to the students, to contain any wild rumors that were sure to spring up, if they hadn't already. Sure enough, that evening after dinner in the Great Hall, the Headmaster called for quiet and delivered the news.

"It is with a heavy heart that I must report some rather unfortunate news. As many of you may be aware, we recently suffered the loss of seven students: five Ravenclaws and two Slytherins. I understand that their deaths were the result of recklessly tampering with dark magic, both far beyond their grade levels and strictly forbidden at Hogwarts in the first place. I cannot emphasize how vital it is that we learn from this incident. Magic, as glorious and convenient as it may be, can also be dangerous, even deadly, if handled without proper caution and respect for its power. I urge you all to keep this in mind as I read the names of our dearly departed friends."

Harry could not decide how he should feel as the names were read. Part of him was disgusted that Dumbledore was forced to put a friendly face on what had been a senseless attack on an innocent by some mean-spirited girls. Another part did feel sorry that they were dead, Pansy especially, if only because he'd run into her family earlier. He was even considering forgiving her, suspecting that Luna either already had, or simply never blamed Pansy or the other girls in the first place. She was unfortunately accustomed to people picking on her, and would likely be more surprised if they ever stopped. This only made Harry angry all over again, and he was seriously considering joining Ron and Ginny in sending obvious glares at the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables.

In that moment, however, Luna's small, warm hand slipped into his and squeezed gently. She was not, as Harry first thought, trying to give comfort, but instead seeking it. More than a few students were looking in her direction: several Slytherins, and nearly all of Ravenclaw. Harry was proud to see that the majority of Gryffindor had either clustered in around Luna in a protective manner, or were, like Ron and Ginny, openly challenging with hostile stares.

As the students rose to return to their dormitories, Harry felt it would be best to get Luna out in a hurry. Before he could, he was stopped by the Patil twins, who he had always liked, both because they seemed to think he was cute, and because they were decent enough to only tease him about it a handful of times each year (Harry felt you had to expect that sort of thing from teenage girls at least a few times, so this was remarkable restraint in his eyes). Now he was reminded that one of them was in Ravenclaw, and he tensed when their gazes went to Luna.

Harry was equal parts surprised and ashamed when both twins hugged Luna and kissed her cheeks at once, and Padma apologized on behalf of, as she put it, "the decent people in left in Ravenclaw." Harry felt so bad for suspecting them that he immediately apologized for the horrid time he was sure they'd had at the Yule Ball back in fourth year.

The twins looked at each other and laughed. Padma accepted his apology, and Parvati smacked him lightly on the arm. "Really, Harry, did you think we'd hold a grudge over that? It's been almost two years, and you're a nice boy, even if you are a total prat when it comes to girls." Despite this comment (or perhaps it was a thinly veiled insult), Harry still got the very strong impression that Parvati would not have said no if he'd asked her out again.

It also did not escape Harry's notice on the way back to the common room that Ron's arm had made its way around Hermione's waist. Hermione was clearly uncomfortable with it, but Harry knew she was tolerating it only because they still hadn't found time to talk to Ron alone. Harry decided it would have to be that night: either they would tell Ron together, or if Hermione didn't agree, he would tell Ron alone. Anything was better than seeing anyone else touch Hermione that way, even if it was Ron.

* * *

Luna was feeling much better by the time they reached the Gryffindor common room. Padma had promised to speak to Professor Flitwick about tighter security measures, if not for the entire house then certainly for Luna in particular. This was surprisingly good news (Harry had forgotten that Padma was a Ravenclaw prefect), but all it meant to Harry was that Luna still refused to become a Gryffindor, despite how much time she was spending among them. Though he trusted Padma, he did not like the idea of entrusting Luna's safety to just anyone. But Luna seemed pleased with the arrangement, and spent most of the night practicing some anti-theft jinxes that Padma had suggested. Unfortunately, she decided to practice on Harry, who reluctantly agreed. By the time they were done, Harry was feeling sore in places he hadn't known could ache, but it was worth it to see Luna so happy. She even thanked him with a quick kiss on the cheek before skipping off to bed.

The effect of this was somewhat dulled by the fact that Hermione and Ron appeared to be fighting about something in increasingly loud tones. By the time Harry joined him, they were almost at shouting levels, and Ginny and Neville were trying, with varying degrees of failure, to separate them.

Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, but this proved to be a mistake, as it apparently gave Ron an excellent target to aim his fist at. Harry saw stars as he stumbled backwards, and then so did everyone else as Hermione shouted, "Confundo!"

It was quickly obvious to Harry that Hermione had, for once, put far too much power into the spell: he experienced a certain euphoria that had nothing to do with being hit, and Ginny looked as if she were particularly drunk. Neville was staring blankly ahead, and Ron, who had gotten the worst of it, seemed to trip over his own feet and fall flat on his face.

Harry stared at Hermione, both in surprise and disbelief: he couldn't recall the last time she had incorrectly performed a spell she'd already learned. It did not even fade when Hermione pointed her wand at him, and his confusion cleared at once. "I thought we weren't going to use magic on him?"

"Oh, be quiet," she snapped, quickly murmuring a spell that completely vanished the painful throbbing sensation in Harry's lip. Then she darted her head forward and kissed him there. "Sorry, you're not the one I'm mad at."

"Clearly," Harry agreed, further dazed by the kiss, "but don't forget them." He gestured to Neville, who was starting to drool. Ginny had stumbled over to him and caught his arm to stay upright, and was trying to clear up the spell effects with her own wand, but was having trouble pointing it at herself. Hermione quickly assisted her, afraid that Ginny might accidentally make things worse in her Confunded state.

"All right, Neville?" Harry asked once Hermione had fixed him up as well.

Neville nodded, eying Hermione warily and glancing nervously at Ron, who was still on the floor. Harry suspected he wanted to help Ron, but wasn't sure how Hermione would react to that.

"Oh, leave him, Neville," Hermione practically ordered. "He can sleep it off down here."

"But don't we need to tell him about you-know-what?" Harry murmured in her ear.

"Harry, you're being silly," Hermione told him. "Ginny and Neville already know. Ron practically shouted it once I told him."

"You told him without me?" Harry asked incredulously. "I thought we agreed that-"

"Yes, well, he wasn't palming you like an ape with a tasty banana, was he? Ginny, don't, I was exaggerating."

Ginny relaxed, but her wand remained trained on Ron, as if she expected the need to hex him to return to her at any moment.

Harry sighed. "So everyone knows now?"

"Everyone who matters most, yes. I'm sure Luna already worked it out."

Harry glanced at Ginny, expecting some sort of reaction, but was disappointed. "What? Why are you looking at me like that, Harry?" she asked.

"Sorry, I just thought you'd have something to say about all this."

"Sure I do: my brother's an idiot. Runs in the family, frankly, so it's not entirely his fault, though I still feel like blaming him this time. As for you two, I'll just say this: be good to each other, because I have no problem taking sides and hexing either one of you if it comes to that."

Harry felt very relieved as Ginny left for bed, though Hermione seemed a little sad. "What's wrong? She took it well."

"Oh, Harry, you have a lot to learn about girls," Hermione sighed, patting his cheek fondly.

"Uh, speaking of girls," Neville chimed in, "Harry, do you think you could put in a good word for me with Luna?"

That Neville might have actual feelings for Luna beyond friendship had never entered Harry's mind, but he suddenly understood how Ron had felt each time Ginny had been spotted with a boy. Though he liked and trusted Neville, he had a sudden urge to size him up and determine if he were really worthy of Luna. Hermione put a stop to that, though.

"I'm sure there's no need, Neville," she assured him. "Luna can decide for herself if she wants to go out with you, and I know she'd appreciate it more if you asked her directly."

Neville seemed horrified by the very thought. "A-Ask her? But I couldn't, Hermione! I'd fall apart!"

She smiled at him. "If it's important enough to you, I'm sure you'll pull it off somehow. I have faith in you, Neville."

Neville went pink in the face at her praise, and Harry clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly as he slowly went up the stairs.

"Are you sure Luna feels the same way he does?" Harry murmured once Neville was out of earshot.

"No, but even if she doesn't, she'll let him down gently."

"Okay, but are you really going to leave Ron down here?"

"He'll be perfectly safe," Hermione replied firmly. "You didn't hear him, Harry. He practically implied that I was his property!"

"I'm sure he didn't mean it that way. He just, you know, assumed you two would end up together. To be honest, so did I, for a long time."

Hermione smirked. "Well, I assume you've stopped?"

"Naturally. But I don't think Confunding Ron and leaving him down here all night is going to make him any more accepting of the fact that we're together now."

"Maybe not, but it should make him think twice about hitting you, especially in the mouth. I have plans for that part of you, after all."

Harry was not sure if she really meant that, or if she was only saying it because, Confunded as he was, Ron might still recall the conversation tomorrow. If nothing else, the kiss that Hermione gave Harry before going up to bed was sure to remain in all their memories for quite some time.

* * *

Continued in **Chapter 7: Evanesco**

Pansy can't help but be depressed that no one but her mother seems to be mourning her. Oddly, she finds a sympathetic ear in the last two people she ever expected: Harry Potter, the boy who killed her, and Luna Lovegood, the girl who has the least reason to miss her. The other school ghosts aren't as welcoming, and the one who is, is the last one that Pansy wants anything to do with. But as it turns out, Moaning Myrtle knows a thing or two about being overlooked, as well as forcing people to take notice of her.

Endnotes:

You know what's odd? In looking for a decent flower name for Pansy's brother, I was looking at a list of flowers and realized that several characters already have flower names, when it had never been apparent to me before. Anyway, I was going to call him Frederick at first, but that's too close to Fred, so I turned to flowers. I finally settled for Cypress. It was either that, Reed, or Basil, and Cypress had the best meaning for my purpose, which is mourning.


	7. Evanesco

Notes: Sorry, sorry, lots of distractions lately, haven't had as much time or inspiration for writing as I would have liked. You will notice some changes in the expected events of Harry's seventh year, the story wouldn't really work out otherwise. So instead of Luna not being at school, someone else goes missing. At first. Also, this chapter is Pansy-centric. I know, I know, but it had to happen sometime.

* * *

**Death Comes to Hogwarts**

**A Harry Potter Fanfic by**

**Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

**Chapter 7: Evanesco**

* * *

Pansy Parkinson's worst nightmare had always been being ignored. She had worked for most of her life to avoid that fate: there was a whole corner in her family's trophy room devoted to putting her accomplishments on display. Nothing had given Pansy greater pleasure than to hear her mother boasting to the other pureblood families.

There had only been two major roadblocks to Pansy's success. The first had been her father's death, and the second, occurring only a month later, had been the birth of her brother, Cypress.

Pansy had not been close to her father, but vaguely remembered him as a tall, regal man that was constantly busy with work. As a child, she often sat on his knee while he played piano at dinner parties (but she was never allowed to touch the piano itself). His face was always a stern mask of pride and intensity, and if Pansy had ever loved him, she had certainly feared him more. He had never been cruel, and his touch was always gentle, but he simply had not been a loving man. About the best Pansy could ever hope for was to make him proud, so that he would have no reason to be disappointed in her.

Cypress had been a burden from the start. Already Pansy's mother's attention had been divided to focus on her late husband's estate, and the family's future. Another mouth to feed was the last thing she'd needed. Parkinson pride would not allow her to abandon her son, however, and Pansy found herself, for the first time in her life, largely ignored. She could have understood if her mother was in mourning or depressed, but to Pansy, placing Cypress ahead of her was an act of the worst sort of betrayal. For months, she had acted out, hoping that even negative attention might be better than none. But it only made her brother look better by comparison, and it wasn't fair to punish her mother, not really. Cypress was the one at fault, so Pansy focused all of her resentment on the source.

Any contact she had with her brother was either brief, thoroughly disappointing, or both. Pansy poured all of her effort into making Cypress aware of her strong dislike for him, and soon they both agreed to simply ignore each other. Of course, they had to play nice in front of their mother, but at any other time, they never bothered with the act. That Cypress so readily agreed to the arrangement was perhaps the first thing that Pansy actually did like about him. He was quite the little actor: in every family portrait, where he was either made to sit in Pansy's lap or cling to her side, Pansy honestly did not recongize him as the moody boy she had come to despise. They both looked like perfectly happy siblings that clearly adored each other. Sometimes, she wondered what that was like. Pansy had never seen her brother as anything other than a pest, and was not at all eager to have yet another child in the family.

Oddly enough, Pansy's feelings toward Cypress had been cooling off as of late. He had stuck to the deal as rigidly as she did, when he could have easily made her life much more difficult. Cypress had gained access to his magic at a very young age, and rapidly developed a gift for knowing things that he simply couldn't have known any other way. If he wanted to, he could have easily exposed all of Pansy's hiding spots around the house, despite never having seen any of them. Pansy had no idea how the magic worked, and neither did Cypress, but the fact was that little remained hidden from him for long. He had actually spent the last few years of birthdays and holidays in bed, having ruined all the surprises for himself days in advance. Pansy hadn't cared then, as it meant she could spend those days without seeing him at all. But it was starting to feel odd, to refer to her brother in passing and then not have anything else to say about him.

Pansy had made up her mind: the next time she was home from school, she was going to renegotiate the terms of her deal with Cypress. She was not sure how receptive he would be, but she told herself that the current situation couldn't be enough for him, either. Perhaps he might listen to her simply because she was older than him. If push came to shove, she knew far more magic than him, but the idea of forcing him made her uncomfortable. Though Pansy had used the Imperius Curse on another person, she had not liked the way it made her feel afterward. Aside from that, it was much more satisfying to manipulate people without having to resort to magical means.

Unfortunately, Pansy never got the chance to change things with Cypress. Not while she was alive, anyway.

* * *

Picking on Luna Lovegood had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Every part of the plan had just seemed to fall into place.

Many of the students were still discussing Harry Potter's infamous breach of the Ministry of Magic, and anyone known to have accompanied him practically became a school legend overnight. As only Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were represented, such fame made Slytherin and Hufflepuff seem rather tame by comparison. Pansy was not completely opposed to inter-house cooperation, but the only one she had ever considered partnering with was Ravenclaw. It was the only house reputed to have Slytherin-level intelligence, and even better, they made for the best sleeper agents, because they did not have Slytherin's reputation. Hufflepuffs tended to be too soft, and aside from that, they were increasingly wary of Slytherin after the loss of their hero Diggory.

Luna was the easiest target by far: not only was she the least liked of those that had gone with Potter, she had already earned herself a small but devoted group of Ravenclaws that delighted in attempting to make her like miserable. It had been easy enough for Pansy to get in good with them: a few empty promises here, a few tweaks to their plans there, and they welcomed her and Millicent aboard with little hesitation.

Every plan needed a certain application of force: Draco had Crabbe and Goyle, while Pansy had Millicent. They were not friends, not really. It was just that Pansy had learned the hidden location of the Hogwarts kitchen in her first year, and saw fit to share it with Millicent. As a result, she'd earned herself a lifelong bodyguard. All Pansy had needed to do was point out that Luna was one of Potter's friends, and Millicent had been all too eager to participate.

It had all been perfect: the Ravenclaws gave Pansy and Millicent access to Luna's dorm room, and from there, Pansy took charge. Though it was not necessary to Stun Luna, and her struggling would have increased her suffering once the actual branding began, Pansy had done it, anyway. She hadn't wanted to risk Luna getting a lucky spell off during the process. The Ravenclaws were supposed to be watching for things like that, but as Pansy was simply using them, she didn't want to place too much trust in them.

Even when Potter and Granger had interrupted, Pansy had still thought there might be a chance for things to work out to her advantage. True, they were more likely to aim for Slytherins first, and even if they did, there was no way both of them could disarm seven people at once. But she hadn't counted on Potter's rage overwhelming him the way it had, or for him striking to kill even once, much less twice. Pansy had only known terror as he turned his furious gaze on her. The look in his eyes was one of deepest loathing and a complete lack of mercy. She would come to think of them as killer's eyes afterwards, because she suspected Potter had never looked like that before. People with looks like that weren't heroes, didn't have friends, and wouldn't have been thought of as Dumbledore's favorite.

The final thought on Pansy's mind as she died was: Did I drive him to this?

* * *

Unlike most newly dead ghosts, Pansy was very much aware of her situation. She had been introduced to family ghosts at a very young age, and they had given her some idea of what to expect when she died.

The first task on her list was to select a place of power: somewhere she could return to in order to rest and think, that was unlikely to be disturbed. She quickly decided on the right third floor corridor, where Fluffy the giant, three-headed dog had once lived. The room was no longer in use nor forbidden to students, but Pansy was sure that a few well-placed cobwebs and rattling chains would be enough to scare off most people. Normally, this would not have been a challenge, except for one tiny detail: the magic of the living did not work so well when one was dead. Worse, Pansy no longer had her wand, and wandless magic had always been challenging for her. It was clear to her that she was going to need some help.

That in itself was another problem: nearly every other ghost she approached avoided her, even Nearly Headless Nick, who was known to drone on and on to anyone who would listen. The only exception was the Bloody Baron, and he had not spoken to Pansy in all the time she'd known him, so she saw no reason to strike up a conversation now. After an entire day of ghosts fleeing the very sight of her, Pansy was finally reduced to begging. She managed to corner Ravenclaw's Grey Lady early the next morning in the Astronomy Tower, and swore that she would do anything for some assistance.

For a long moment, the older ghost said nothing, and Pansy was sure that she still held a grudge over what had been done to Luna Lovegood.

The Grey Lady surprised her, however, by simply saying, "We do not avoid you because of your crime. Some of us have done far worse, and have paid for our sins accordingly. We avoid you only because you are new and uncertain. No one can be sure where your loyalties lie. Once you have made your choice known, help may or may not be given to you."

This left Pansy stumped: how was she supposed to claim a side if the ghosts wouldn't talk to her? It was only after she overheard Cypress and Harry Potter talking that she found the answer. She would have to make a connection to someone still among the living.

Though Draco was her first choice, Pansy was hurt, but not exactly surprised, to find that the feeling wasn't mutual. Draco did not seem to be dwelling on her death at all. It was both possible and probable that he was merely masking his pain, but Pansy still expected to see some outward sign that he missed her. Since there was none, she decided not to show herself to him, though it was almost a certainty that the news of her becoming a ghost would reach him eventually.

With Draco out of the running, Pansy did not consider any other Slytherin as her living contact. Millicent was perhaps the only one Pansy would have felt safe calling a friend, and had done so in the past without any negative consequences. But Millicent was dead now, which meant that Pansy would have to find a living ally in another House. It would almost have to be a Ravenclaw, and the few Pansy had been really familiar with were dead, too. Really, the more she thought about it, the more obvious it became that there was only one living Ravenclaw who, despite everything Pansy had done to her, did not possess a hateful bone in her body. Pansy hated the idea of depending on her, but she was running out of options. If she really intended to stay at Hogwarts, she was going to need the help of Luna Lovegood.

* * *

Luna was terribly easy to find: she was spending a great deal of time in the less commonly used bathrooms. Pansy mistakenly assumed she was avoiding being teased. It was rather sobering to find out that Luna was instead cleaning the scars on her arms, which had begun to bleed at irregular intervals throughout the day. Pansy just happened to float through the wall and interrupt one of these cleanings, and was at a loss for words as she and Luna stared at each other in silence.

"Um, hello," Luna said at last, blinking slowly as she held her wet arm over the sink. "Did you need to use the bathroom?"

"Why would a ghost need to use the bathroom?" Pansy asked at once, frowning.

"You know. Haunting. Moping. Clanking around. That sort of thing." Luna did not seem at all disturbed by the fact that she was addressing the ghost of a girl that had tortured her. Oddly enough, Pansy had been counting on that, so things were proceeding more or less the way she'd hoped.

"Well, I don't need the bathroom. I wanted to talk to you, actually."

Luna smiled in a way that was both pitying and incredibly disarming, which made Pansy feel distinctly uncomfortable. "You need a living contact, right?"

Pansy gaped at her. "How did you know?"

"You're not my first ghost. Which is actually a good thing, for you. Just a minute, please." Luna turned away and leaned over sink, placing her mouth near the end of the faucet. "Myrtle, dear, could you come out? I think we're going to need an expert opinion."

Pansy scowled as one of her least favorite ghosts suddenly zipped out of the faucet, hovering slightly behind Luna. In all honesty, the only way Pansy could like Moaning Myrtle less was if she were also covered in silver bloodstains, the way the Bloody Baron was.

"What's she doing in my bathroom?" Myrtle muttered, frowning at Pansy. "Is she bullying you again, Luna?"

"No, nothing like that," Luna assured Myrtle. "Actually, I think she could use your help. She is new to being a ghost, after all."

"Why would I want to help her?" Myrtle sneered. "She's just the kind of girl that would have picked on me when I was alive! I know for a fact she's done it since I've died!"

"Can't you do it as a favor to me?" Luna pleaded. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure her death was nothing short of spectacular."

"Really?" Myrtle asked, sounding extremely interested. She floated closer to Pansy, peering eagerly into her face. "Was it dreadful? Lots of pain involved?"

"I suppose," Pansy muttered, feeling very uncomfortable with Myrtle's interest and proximity. "Harry Potter killed me. Practically sliced me in half."

"Oh, how positively awful!" Myrtle gasped, though she looked quite impressed. "Poor dear, that earns you a toilet. You can haunt whichever one you like!"

"I've already got a spot picked out," Pansy replied uneasily. "Listen, you don't know any ghostly magic, do you?"

"Don't be silly, there's no such thing!" Myrtle said far too quickly.

"But I thought-"

"No such thing!" Myrtle repeated firmly, and definitely with the look of someone hiding something.

Pansy glared at her. "Fine! Be that way! I hope you get stuck in your stupid toilet!" As she turned away, the glimpse Pansy caught of Myrtle's face, frozen in shock and hurt, was rather satisfying. The disappointed expression on Luna's face, however, made Pansy feel something else entirely.

* * *

Pansy was quickly reminded of why she'd sought out Luna in the first place: there simply were no other options.

Slytherin students were uneasy around her, Gryffindors tried to curse her, all other Ravenclaws avoided her, and Hufflepuffs appeared to be generally terrified of her.

But Pansy eventually found that the Grey Lady had been right about one thing: people had started noticing that she was always alone, and any fear of her soon faded, though in the worst possible way. Suddenly, Ravenclaws were trying to hex her, and Hufflepuffs, while not quite so resourceful, resorted to throwing things at her. Oddly enough, while this did not hurt physically, Pansy found that it did hurt emotionally, and quite a lot more than it normally would have. She had always thought ghosts were a bit over-dramatic, but if their emotions were magnified as hers seemed to be, it was no wonder why.

Though she did her best to avoid the living, she was still in a castle full of them, and it was inevitable that she'd run into them eventually.

This was how Pansy found herself being pelted with chalk by a small group of terrified Hufflepuffs. In her defense, she had not meant to frighten them, but people never reacted well when a ghost suddenly drifted through their bodies.

Without warning, and for no reason that Pansy could see, the Hufflepuffs were completely drenched by a torrent of decidedly dirty water. They wasted no time in fleeing, convinced that Pansy had cursed them, when she was just as surprised as they were. Even more so, in fact, when she noticed Moaning Myrtle peering out from an alcove, grinning gleefully at the retreating Hufflepuffs.

"You can do magic! I knew it!" Pansy shouted accusingly.

Myrtle seemed to go a shade paler momentarily, then frowned. "Well, if that's your way of thanking me, then-"

"I didn't ask for your help!"

"No, you just desperately needed it is all!"

The two ghost girls glared at each other before crossing their arms over their chests and looking away angrily. Neither spoke for several moments, until Pansy hesitantly cleared her throat.

"So, um, where did the water come from?"

"The toilets, of course," Myrtle responded at once.

Pansy wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted. "You can do that?"

"I did, didn't I?" Myrtle demanded mulishly. "Not that you'd care!"

"Could you show me how you did it?"

Myrtle blinked and turned to stare at her defiantly. "Why should I?"

Out of options, Pansy was left with no other choice. "Please?" she asked in a tiny voice. She was startled to see that most of Myrtle's bad attitude faded at once. Apparently manners went a long way when almost no one would talk to you.

"Oh, fine," Myrtle sighed. "It isn't that complicated, and it's less about knowing the magic and more about really wanting it to happen than anything else, so you should be able to learn it quickly."

"Thank you," Pansy replied extremely quietly, but judging by the way Myrtle's eyebrows shot up, she'd heard just fine.

* * *

Myrtle's brand of magic was remarkably easy for Pansy to pick up: it was one part memory, three parts feeling, and one part effort. Spells were easier to use if she was already familiar with them, and meaning them was indeed the most important thing. Myrtle claimed that nearly all ghosts could still use some magic, but most either lacked the necessary willpower or motivation to do so. Pansy couldn't imagine why: she'd been desperately missing her old chestnut wand of unicorn hair, and being able to do magic at all somehow eased that ache. Myrtle's only condition for the lessons was that Pansy promised not use her magic against other ghosts. This was no problem, since none of them were the ones bothering Pansy. Once the Hogwarts students found her capable of and willing to defend herself, they mostly left her alone.

Still, Pansy lacked a human contact, and she no longer felt comfortable approaching Luna. Even if Luna had nothing against her, Pansy preferred to put her trust in someone that had no reason to betray her, or at least someone she felt more comfortable around. Excluding Luna, there were really only two people left on that list. The first was Draco, and Pansy felt as if he simply didn't care for her as much as she'd hoped. The second was her brother Cypress, who she hadn't considered only because he wasn't currently a student at Hogwarts, and probably never would be, if their mother had her way. Despite their bitter past, Cypress was the only person who might agree to be her living contact, if only because he clearly felt some obligation to avenge her death. He wouldn't like it, but he was too honorable to refuse her this last request. If nothing else, Pansy could trust him as much as she always had, which was just enough for them both to make it through the day in one piece.

The journey home was somewhat tiresome, but Pansy knew it was worth it. One of the many things a human contact would provide her with was another source of magical power to sustain herself when necessary. She had greatly misjudged the distance, however, having only traveled home from Hogwarts by train. By the time she arrived at the Parkinson estate, it was nearly four in the morning, and there was almost no chance that Cypress, or anyone else, would be awake.

Not only was Cypress awake, however, he seemed to be waiting for her. Pansy could think of no other reason why he would be up so late, propped up against his pillow, staring expectantly at the very same wall of his bedroom that she chose to float through.

"You finally came to visit, sis," he murmured, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I was starting to think I'd fall asleep waiting."

"You know why I'm here, then?" Pansy asked, keeping her distance.

"Not for certain, but I can guess." Cypress drummed his fingers on a thick book resting in his lap. "I've been reviewing father's old ghost guide. From what I can tell, there are only two reasons for you to be here. Either you're here to curse me, or you want my help. Cursing me wouldn't accomplish much, since I'm underage and have no wand, and I'm guessing you're short on allies as it is, so you can't afford to harm me. I'll make this simple: I will help you, after we discuss a few things. Have a seat."

Pansy blinked and slowly settled herself at the foot of her brother's bed. She had figured that Cypress would be wary and fearful of her, but instead he seemed to have complete control over the meeting.

He smiled for the first time, though it was really more of a smirk. "Relax, sis. You can come closer. I doubt you're much colder now than you were before."

Frowning, Pansy moved closer. She couldn't decide if Cypress was aware of the fact that she was extra sensitive now, or if he just thought they would exchange barbs as they always had. When she didn't respond, he moved on.

"Don't worry. I promise I'll help you. But that comes later. We need to talk about how you died."

"Do we have to? You know how-"

"I saw it," Cypress interrupted. "In my head. I saw you die. Probably while it was actually happening."

"Oh," Pansy said quietly. She imagined that had to be fairly disturbing, and wasn't sure what to say. She wouldn't want to watch him die.

"It made me angry. But not for the reasons you might think."

Pansy knew what he would say before he could say it. She didn't want to hear it, but knew Cypress wouldn't help her until she had.

"Of all the ways you could die, you choose to piss off Harry Potter, a practical godsend to the magical world, to the point where he feels that killing you is acceptable and righteous." Cypress paused to take a deep breath. "I was never more ashamed to be your brother."

What remained of Pansy's mouth went dry. Was he really going to make her listen to this?

"You know what the worst part is? He was absolutely right to kill you. You and your so-called friends, you were the evil ones. Do you know how it made me feel, to side with your murderer? Do you know what it still does to me?"

"You hate me," Pansy whispered.

He sighed and shook his head. "You would think that, wouldn't you? If I really hated you, sis, I wouldn't bother trying to teach you a lesson. If I hated you, I would have made you beg for my help. If I hated you, this would be so much easier on me, because I wouldn't care what happened to your soul." Cypress turned his back on her, tucking the book under his pillow. "But I do care, and I do love you, you stupid, selfish girl. You're still my big sister, and you don't deserve my help, but you don't have to earn it. I'm giving it freely. But only if you give me your word that you'll never give me reason to feel the way I felt the day you died. I really will abandon you to your fate if that happens."

Pansy stared at him in shock. "But if you do love me, then that means you lied to Harry Potter. Why?"

"I wasn't sure if he was going to be my enemy, and even if he wasn't, I didn't want him to waste time feeling sorry for me. He has far more important matters to worry about, and so do we." Cypress faced her again and stretched out his hand, revealing a deep, fresh cut across his palm. "I, Cypress Randall Parkinson, do give freely of my magic, body, and soul to you."

Pansy reached out with a trembling hand, grasping his as best she could. "I, Pansy Elizabeth Parkinson, do accept your gift, as well as all terms and conditions that accompany it."

The wound in his hand glowed bright red before turning a ghastly black. It was eerily reminiscent of the scars that Pansy knew Luna still bore.

"Doesn't hurt," Cypress murmured, flexing his hand. "I thought it would hurt, or at least feel weird."

"Haven't I hurt you enough, Cypress?" Pansy asked softly.

He frowned at her and lowered his hand. "Don't do that, sis. I said you didn't have to earn this, and I meant it. If I'm not going to make you feel guilty, then you're not allowed to, either."

It was a suggestion at best, and normally Pansy would have just ignored it. But without warning, something so much like pain pulsed through her ghostly form that Pansy almost cried out. Then she noticed the pained look in her brother's piercing blue eyes, and quickly realized that there was more to this contract than she'd ever imagined. "Cypress?" she whispered. "What did you do?"

"Shared pain," he replied. "When one of us hurts, we both do. So no more punishing yourself, or we both suffer."

"No! I didn't want this!"

"Too bad!" Cypress snapped, startling her. "I told you, didn't I? We're doing this on my terms! Maybe if you can actually see that what you do impacts those closest to you, you'll realize the impact you have on everyone that you hurt!"

"Y-You tricked me!" Pansy cried. "I never would have agreed to this if I'd known!"

"Obviously. Why do you think I didn't tell you?" He laughed bitterly. "I've been studying up on this. I can't control you, not really. That's way too advanced for someone that doesn't even have a wand yet. But you'd be surprised what I can still do, thanks to our shared blood, and now our new bond." He made a fist and shouted, "Appareo!"

Pansy gaped as a thick, blood-red chain appeared out of thin air, connecting the wrists they'd made the contract with. Instead of being attached to any kind of cuff, however, the chain seemed to sink directly into their skin. "Why, Cypress? Why would you do this?"

"Because I care about what becomes of your soul, and this is my only chance to save you. Besides, now I can force you to spend time with me if I want."

She wanted to tell him that she'd actually been looking forward to that, but wasn't sure he'd believe her. "So we're going to Durmstrang?" Pansy asked.

"Of course not," Cypress replied at once, as if it should have been obvious.

"It's what mother wants," she reminded him.

"She isn't about to refuse the only child she has left. I'm going to Hogwarts."

"Why?"

Cypress rolled his eyes. "I can't fix your mistakes if I'm at another school. Anyway, I want to go to Hogwarts. Ignoring the fact that you died there, it's a very good school of magic."

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that Harry Potter is there?"

"I already told you, sis. We aren't going to worry about him until we have to. I'll have my hands full just dealing with you, as usual."

* * *

Pansy spent the rest of the term at home with Cypress. Though he made it clear that she could return to Hogwarts whenever she wanted, neither of them really wanted to be separated. Pansy had found that her brother was interested in a large variety of subjects, and was really quite brilliant for someone that hadn't started at Hogwarts yet. If she had stopped to think about it, he would have reminded her a great deal of Hermione Granger, except that Pansy actually liked Cypress now.

Their mother was less than pleased, especially when she learned that Cypress still intended to attend Hogwarts. But after being assured that Pansy would be with him (they thought it best not to tell her about their new bond), they were finally given their mother's blessing, however reluctantly. If it bothered her that Pansy was a ghost, she hid it quite well. Neither Pansy nor Cypress were surprised by this: it had become a family custom to have tea with their late father's ghost (or at least to have tea while he watched) whenever they were all at home. Their old house-elf, Lucky, was blind in one eye, but had perfect vision in the other, which resulted in the odd fact that he could see ghosts, but had no idea that they were dead in the first place. This actually made Pansy feel better, because being treated as if she were still alive was comforting. She had never imagined that hearing Lucky hoarsely croak, "Anything else, Mistress Pansy?" would make her feel so good, and she might have kissed him, if not for the long, white hairs that insisted on growing out of his wrinkled forehead.

Far before Pansy was ready, Cypress had gotten his Hogwarts letter, and by the following week, all his books and school supplies had been shipped (Pansy had always regretted that her family rarely shopped in person). They had agreed beforehand that it would be a bad idea for Pansy to accompany Cypress on the Hogwarts Express: the other first years would be nervous enough without a ghost in their midst, and she didn't want to taint her brother's reputation any more than she already had. After a very awkward goodbye (Cypress insisted on a hug, and Pansy came away from it feeling as if she'd just committed incest on an entirely new level), Pansy left home, only to find the Grey Lady waiting patiently outside.

Before Pansy could even begin to ask why she was there, the Grey Lady nodded stiffly and said, "I acknowledge you." Then she turned and floated away without another word.

It occurred to Pansy that for another ghost to have come all this way just to see her, they must have wanted something more than saying three simple words. But the only thing that made sense at that point was to follow the Grey Lady, since they had the same destination in the first place. No words passed between them during the journey, and even when they finally reached Hogwarts, the Grey Lady floated off to Ravenclaw Tower without even a backward glance. Still, Pansy thought that her form, what there was of it, did not feel as cold as it once did, and that the castle felt more like home than it ever had before. At least, until she learned that Dumbledore was dead. Pansy had never been especially fond of him, but the fact remained that Hogwarts was forever changed without him, and Pansy had been through enough changes recently.

Pansy spent the first part of the night in Myrtle's toilet, catching up on everything she'd missed. Myrtle was all too happy to fill her in on the many changes at Hogwarts (most of them did have a rather dreadful feel, after all), and Pansy had to admit that part of her was actually happy to see Myrtle again. They talked until Myrtle heard the first years crossing the lake (her ears were unusually sensitive to any sound carried through water, and she claimed the toilets only amplified them). Myrtle chose to sulk in her toilet a bit (her exact words) while Pansy went down to meet Cypress.

She caught up to him as he and the other first years were marching into the Great Hall to be Sorted. For the first time, Pansy had no idea where to go. None of the tables seemed all that inviting anymore, partially because she'd gotten so used to hovering, but mostly because she hadn't thought of herself as a Slytherin in some time. Myrtle had constantly pointed out that the only color that should matter to Pansy now was silvery-white, and it was really starting to sink in. Pansy finally picked out a spot near the enchanted ceiling and watched from overhead.

Oddly enough, the Sorting Hat did not make an appearance. Instead, the four house hourglasses were wheeled in and positioned on the floor. A teacher that Pansy didn't recognize used his wand to draw chalk lines on the floor, one extending from each hourglass, until they all met at a central point on the floor. One by one, first years were told to stand on that point, where they would be Sorted. The first boy got a rather bad shock when he stepped up, only to have the Hufflepuff hourglass explode in a shower of yellow gems, glass, and wood. Before the pieces could hit the floor, they froze, seemed to go back in time, and restored themselves to the soon completely whole hourglass. Pansy thought it was a bit too flashy, especially since the Slytherin hourglass also released a large, serpent-shaped plume of smoke where no others did.

Soon enough, Cypress was set to step onto the point. Pansy wasn't sure where she expected him to end up, but it certainly wasn't where he did. The Ravenclaw hourglass exploded the moment his foot touched the chalk.

The entire Great Hall went silent.

Pansy immediately dropped down from the ceiling, half-expecting an attack.

Cypress glanced around the hall, looked at her, and shrugged.

Feeling silly, she followed him over to the Ravenclaw table, where only one person was clapping. It was Luna Lovegood, and Pansy could not bring herself to be surprised. If anything, she was relieved that something had gone as she'd expected. Of course Luna would be happy that the younger brother of a girl who tortured her ended up in the same house: she was Luna, after all.

Cypress squeezed in between Luna and Padma Patil, who gave him a sideways glance and a brief, forced smile before looking away. Luna immediately launched into a rather detailed explanation of how Cypress should navigate the halls the next morning (which was guaranteed to get him good and lost, but at least Luna was doing it not out of spite, but because she genuinely assumed he might prefer an extremely scenic route). Cypress nodded every so often, more than likely at the points where he guessed it would be polite, but Pansy thought he was a little too accommodating: his eyes rarely left Luna's face while she was talking, even when she paused to breathe between lectures.

Something else momentarily drew Pansy's attention away from Cypress and Luna: for no reason that she could guess, Draco suddenly stood up and slipped out of the Great Hall. Though she no longer had a physical stomach, Pansy still felt an uneasy flutter in that area as she watched him leave. She couldn't really blame him for not contacting her: her family's acceptance of ghosts was rather unusual, and the Malfoys were not known for living in the past. Still, she had expected that her death would impact Draco in some way, though she had yet to see it.

Perhaps the most notable event happened shortly after the feast. Pansy was not really paying attention by then, as her mind was still on Draco. But she noticed when a hush fell over the hall, and when she looked toward the front, she saw why.

Severus Snape was standing in front of the teachers' table, in his usual attire of solid black robes. Pansy thought this was odd: Snape loathed having to speak at the first night feasts, and had certainly never made an announcement there in all the time she'd been a student. And though Pansy had missed whatever announcement Snape had stepped up to give, she did not miss what happened next.

From a door behind the teachers' table, several people suddenly filed into the room, lining up just in front of Snape. Overall, they looked like a highly undesirable lot, and as Pansy began to recognize a few of them, she knew exactly why.

Death Eaters had come to Hogwarts.

* * *

In Pansy's opinion, the appointment of several Death Eaters as teachers, and even Snape as Headmaster, had been rather anti-climatic. She'd half expected them to start hexing students at once, but they'd been strangely well-behaved, for them at least. Of course, the biggest news of the night, in her mind, was that only Slytherin was now allowed to have prefects, and several more had been appointed at once. This was a particularly strange move: no house was simply going to stop recognizing their own authority figures just because Snape was in charge. Pansy noted that despite the ruling, many Ravenclaw first years still looked to Padma Patil when they had questions, and not the scowling Slytherin prefect that had followed them up to Ravenclaw Tower. Even Pansy had been unable to resist smirking when the talking tower door had suddenly slammed in the startled Slytherin's face, locking him out in the stairwell, and simply stating, "No more Slytherin prefects in my tower tonight, thank you very much!"

Once the applause died down, Padma took over, assuring everyone that matters would improve as soon as she was able to meet with Professor Flitwick (all of the usual teachers had remained in the Great Hall after the feast). In the meantime, she walked the first years through banishing charms, just in case anyone (Slytherin prefects included) gave them a hard time, but warned them only to respond with magic for self defense. It wasn't long before one of them posed the question that Pansy had been wondering herself.

"Is it true that no one's seen Harry Potter or Hermione Granger tonight?"

Padma stiffened noticeably, glancing at Pansy. "I know I haven't seen them tonight. But I'd like to think that's only because they've got brains enough not to walk into enemy territory. Now, if there's nothing else-"

Luna loudly cleared her throat. "Actually, I have something to say. I'd like to invite you all to join my new social club, S.P.E.W.!"

It was safe to say that most of the first years already had a fairly good impression of Luna's behavior, and viewed this with obvious suspicion. The older Ravenclaws seemed both surprised and confused.

"Isn't that the nutty organization that Hermione was trying to start?" one of the girls asked among several snickers.

"What? No, of course not!" Luna replied, sounding insulted. "This is a completely different S.P.E.W.!"

"So it's not the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, then?"

"No, it's the Sorcerous Pot-heads Entrenched in Wartime!" Luna snapped.

Perhaps because several Muggle-born students already had a working definition of what a "pothead" was, this was not especially convincing.

"It's in support of Harry Potter," Cypress said at last, "and I'd like to be the first join."

Luna beamed at him. "Really? Oh, thank you, Cy!" She thrust a blank scroll into his hands, and watched eagerly as he signed his name.

Encouraged by Cypress's bravery (and more than that, his helpful explanation), several more students signed up, Padma among them.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" Pansy asked Cypress as he headed to his new dorm. "I'm sure those Death Eaters are just looking for any excuse to hex anyone associated with Potter."

"I'm sure you're right, but if they'd go after someone like me, maybe it will show someone else that there's no loyalties among Slytherins. I don't recall any of them offering their condolences when you died."

Pansy had no answer for that, and remained silent as Cypress inspected his new bed, then opened his trunk to begin unpacking. Suddenly, he paused and reached in. "You know, sis, maybe I was wrong about Slytherins. About one of them, at least."

"What makes you say that?"

Without a word, Cypress held up something that took Pansy's breath away: a ghostly, silvery-white rose, preserved in a tiny snow-globe. Carved into the bottom of the wooden stand was a simple message: "Thinking of you. - D.M."

"He didn't forget me?" Pansy asked in shock.

Cypress grinned at her. "I'll make you a deal: I won't give you any grief about your crush, if you don't give me any about mine."

Pansy had no idea what he meant, at first. But the more she thought about it after Cypress was asleep, the more she realized that only one girl had made a major impression on Cypress that night: Luna Lovegood.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Mobilicorpus**

Harry and Hermione return to Hogwarts in secret, unaware that their secret passage in may prove to be Luna's way out when her Tempesta powers reach dangerous new heights.

* * *

**Endnotes:**

Artistic license taken with the Parkinsons, magic concerning ghosts, ghostly magic, and indeed, ghosts in general. Also other stuff, probably. Was there already a house elf named Lucky? If so, I forgot.


End file.
